


Of The Same Kin

by DracoWillHearAboutThis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternative Horcrux Hunt, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Crossover, Drabbles, Draco Malfoy changing sides, M/M, POV Alternating, Prophecy, Second War with Voldemort, Short Chapters, Snippets, new alliances
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 41,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoWillHearAboutThis/pseuds/DracoWillHearAboutThis
Summary: In the midst of the summer holidays leading up to his seventh year at Hogwarts, Draco receives an unexpected visitor at the Manor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my dear readers! This is a new project I've been playing around with in my head for a while now and that I'm just going to throw out now. It's going to be a Drarry / Merthur crossover, and both pairings are going to be equally important, so the order of the fandoms or pairings listed in the tags is irrelevant. The story is not going to be completely written out in complete detail but is going to consist of little drabbles, snippets and scenes that will (hopefully) coherently connect to the whole thing towards the end. POV's will be alternating, updates will be irregular. It's an idea I have been playing around in my head with for a while now, though, and with some encouragement off twitter, I finally got around to writing the first scene and posting it here. I'm very excited about it and I hope you'll enjoy it!! If you do, please drop me a comment, I'm curious!!
> 
> Also, please note that as of last week, I have a public Twitter account (@IntoBlondPrats), so if you're interested in my fic-related ramblings, my HP or Merlin fangirling or just want to talk to me, please follow me and come say hello! :D

Draco shivered as he made his way through the corridors of the Manor, his own steps loud and reverberating in the unnatural stillness of the house as he hurried towards his room. Despite it being August, he was perpetually freezing. His mother kept telling him that it was because he wasn't eating (and how did she expect him to eat when his teachers were being slaughtered at their dining table?), but Draco knew that it was more than that.

With the Dark Lord, something unforbidding and so purely  _ evil  _ had entered their house that the coldness had seeped through the walls, stemming off the warm summer air, obstructing its entrance into the Manor, along with all hope and laughter. 

Draco finally reached the door to his quarters and lunged for it, longing for that little piece of privacy in the midst of this purgatory that was now his life. He pushed inside and slammed the door shut behind himself, leaning against the wooden surface and closing his eyes, taking deep, calming breaths. 

It was only when he opened his eyes that he realised that he wasn't quite as alone as he'd thought. 

There, in the middle of his bedroom, casually leaning against his four-poster as if he had every right to be there, stood a man. He was tall, probably as tall as Draco and every bit as lanky, pointy joints and facial features included. Though while Draco was known for his sharp jawline and chin, it were this man's cheekbones that could have cut through stone. His hair was dark and ruffled, strangely reminiscent of Potter, and his eyes were a deep blue that seemed to pierce right through him.

The man smiled at Draco, looking far too cheerful for someone who had just broken into his room. 

"Hi," he said, his voice deep and pleasant. 

Draco's instinctive response was to reach for his wand, his hand trembling as he pointed it at the intruder. 

"Who are you?" he demanded. "How did you get in here?"

There was a displeased frown on the man's face now, and he pursed his lips. 

"There's really no need for that," he muttered, with a reproachful tone that Draco found entirely uncalled for, considering the situation. And then, to Draco's complete horror, the man's blue eyes turned golden and Draco's wand flew out of his hand, right into the other man's outstretched palm. "There," he nodded, pocketing the wand. "Much better. Now, please have a seat. I hate to have conversations standing up."

Draco gaped at him, utterly speechless. Naturally, he did not move an inch.

"Fine," the man sighed, shrugging as he sank down onto Draco's mattress and crossed his legs, making himself at home. "Suit yourself, then."

"Excuse me," Draco ground out, his teeth clenched. "But  _ who exactly  _ are you?!"

The man grinned, watching him in open amusement. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he shrugged, and Draco felt his head pounding in a combination of annoyance and the never-ceasing headache that seemed to be his constant companion nowadays. 

"How did you get in here?" Draco demanded. "There are wards around this house!" 

"Wards can't keep me out," the man waved him off, rolling his eyes.

"What?!" Draco called, his voice rising. "Are you an Auror? Are you from the Order? Because if you're here to avenge Dumbledore, then -"

"I have no business with Dumbledore," Draco was cut off, and finally, the man's expression turned serious. "Or the Ministry. I fight my own battles, and I'm here to ask you to join me."

Again, Draco turned quite speechless in response. He blinked, opened his mouth once and closed it again. At last, he managed: "Join you? For what?"

"Well, in short, we're going to save the world," the man grinned, and Draco was beginning to suspect that he was slightly deranged. "Not only you and me, mind you. You'll first help me, um,  _ retrieve  _ a friend of mine, and then we'll team up with the rest of the troop to kill that madman downstairs."

Draco's jaw dropped. He couldn't help it.

"You want to assassinate the Dark Lord?" Draco asked. "And you think the best place to discuss this is the house he chose to take up as living quarters?!"

"Oh, don't worry, he won't hear us," the man assured him. "His wards can't keep me out, but mine can keep him out. He doesn't even know I'm here."

"What the - who in Merlin's name are you?!" Draco demanded, eyes wide. The other man only snorted, shaking his head. 

"Nevermind that. Let's discuss business. You, Draco Malfoy, need to get out of here, and this is what I'm offering you: A way out. You'll be under my protection, and Voldemort will be unable to ever hurt you again. All you have to do is help me."

"I can't just up and leave!" Draco called, slightly hysterical now. "He'll kill my parents in a heartbeat if I do!"

"Not if no one remembers you exist," the man said calmly, and Draco stared. 

"What?" he asked, his voice shaking. 

"If you decide to come with me, I will erase every memory of you," he explained, blue eyes locked on Draco's. "Only until Voldemort's death, of course. Then they will come back and you can reconcile with your family. But until then, it should keep them safe."

"This - No one can cast a Memory Charm that strong!" Draco protested. "It's impossible!"

"It's not," the man argued. "I can do it, and I will. How do you think someone with my powers managed to stay under the radar in times of war?" 

Draco had no answer to that. He had seen and heard enough to know that whoever he was dealing with, he was stronger than should be humanly possible for any wizard alive. The fact that he was sitting in Draco's room and the Dark Lord hadn't burst in yet was proof enough. 

"Why should I join you?" Draco whispered.

"I thought that was obvious?" the man said, raising an eyebrow. "You're not a Death Eater, Draco. Not really. You were forced into this. You've regretted joining every day since you got your mark."

Draco's marked arm twitched, feeling burnt by the truth of the words.

"Why me?" Draco hissed. "How do you know I won't betray you?"

The man smiled again, and Draco felt inadequate, though he couldn't explain why. 

"Because it's your destiny," the man said simply. 

Draco frowned. "That makes no sense," he complained.

"Let's say Harry Potter isn't the only one who's had a prophecy made over," the man shrugged. "It was foretold that you would help me. It took me a while to figure out that the prophecy meant  _ you _ specifically, but the more I watched you, the surer I became. It's you and me, Draco. We have to take the first step towards ending this war." The look on the man's face was earnest now, and he was getting to his feet and was slowly approaching Draco, a pleading look in his eyes. "Come on," he urged, holding out his hand for Draco to take. "We both know you want to."

Draco was still staring at him, conflicted. Everything inside of him was screaming that this was insane, that he should alert the Dark Lord or his parents for help and have this intruder dealt with. 

But…

It sounded so  _ tempting.  _ A way out. It was what Draco wanted more than anything else in the world. To just disappear and start over again. To be useful. To make up for past mistakes. 

He stared at the man's hand, still outstretched. 

"Tell me who you are," he demanded. "I can't go with you if I don't know your name."

The man looked unsure for the first time, but he nodded, determination returning to his eyes as he answered.

"Fair enough," he agreed. "Just… Keep an open mind?"

Draco frowned, and blurted out: "You're not Potter on Polyjuice, are you?!"

"Not quite," the man snorted, cracking a smile. "No. I have been called many names, but… the most commonly known would be Merlin."

Draco blinked. And stared. And then he laughed, unable to help himself. 

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Right."

The man raised his eyebrows pointedly. "Told you you wouldn't believe me."

"You seriously want me to believe that you're the legendary _Merlin_? Most powerful wizard of all time? Magic Incarnate? Please! Merlin died centuries ago," Draco pointed out. 

"Did he?" the man challenged, smiling ever so slightly. "Can anyone prove that?"

"Well, no, but - you don't exactly look a thousand years old," Draco argued. "Nicolas Flames almost fell apart by the seams at age - what was it, 400? You don't look a day over 30!" 

"Well, being Magic Incarnate has its perks," the man shrugged. "Such as infusions of youth to my immortal body whenever I want them."

Draco stared, wavering in his incredulity. 

"It's impossible," he whispered, but even as he said it, he couldn't help but think,  _hope_ that maybe, it wasn't. "You can't be Merlin."

"I'm afraid I am," the man said apologetically. "Now, are you going to join me on my quest to destroy Lord Voldemort, or do I have to make you forget we ever met?"

His hand was still outstretched expectantly, and after a beat of silence, Draco found himself taking it, quite without consciously deciding to. He tried desperately to swallow down the panic and guilt he felt thinking about leaving his parents behind, his hand shaking as he clung on. 

The man - Merlin - beamed at him, squeezing his palm, and Draco's heart was beating so fast it felt like it would break out of his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers!
> 
> I'm back with the second part of this story! I was so thrilled by all the positive responses for the first snippet! Thank you so much for all the lovely responses! I do hope you like this one just as much! This time, I'm exploring Merlin's POV.
> 
> Please enjoy!!
> 
> PS: To all the readers of my Do It All Over Again Series: I might be a day late with posting the new chapter this time. I know I'm due tomorrow but I might not make it since I got some last minute appointments scheduled. Please have some patience with me.

Merlin watched as Draco picked on his half-eaten plate of eggs and bacon, the fork making insistent clicking noises against the porcelain. Merlin sighed, giving him a warning scowl across his kitchen table. 

"Eat," he told him, rather sternly. "You're skin and bones, and you'll need your strength for the task ahead of us."

Draco glowered at him, grey eyes defiant.

"You're one to talk," he snapped. "You're not exactly Adonis yourself."

Merlin pursed his lips, realising with a start that he had a point. 

"Damn," he muttered, getting up and leaving the room to check his reflection in the mirror hanging in the hallway of his little cottage. "Did I make myself too young? I think I had filled out at least a little more by the time Arthur died."

"Excuse me?" Draco asked from the kitchen. 

Merlin ignored him, instead reaching out to the magic all around him, connecting to it, letting it flow into his body and join with his core. His eyes glowed golden and his reflection changed minutely, his shoulders filling out, his angles growing less sharp, the lines around his eyes more pronounced. He stopped again quickly, not wanting to overdo it, and regarded himself critically. Then he nodded, satisfied with his adjustments, returning to the kitchen. 

Draco gaped at him, eyebrows raised.

"Did you just charm yourself muscles?" he demanded incredulously. 

"No," Merlin rolled his eyes. "I merely adjusted my age to make sure I wouldn't confuse Arthur when he returned. I think it's best if I look just like he remembers me to make everything a little easier for him."

Draco stared, frowning again, and Merlin could literally hear the wheels turning in his head. 

"So, we're really going to do this, are we?" he enquired, sounding less than thrilled. "We're really going to resurrect a Muggle King?"

Merlin's gaze hardened. He stared Draco down until the younger boy had the grace to flush, though he did not withdraw the question. 

"One wrong word about Arthur, and I'll drop you right off at the Manor again," Merlin threatened. "I'm not going to listen to any of the Pureblood Elitist nonsense your parents bred into you."

"No - wait -" Draco protested, looking immensely frustrated. "It's just - how can a Muggle help us defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard to ever walk the Earth? Can't you see why I'm being sceptical here?!"

"Arthur isn't just  _ any  _ Muggle," Merlin glared. "He has a destiny that's as of yet unfulfilled. He's to return upon the time of Albion's greatest need. And if that's not now, I'm not sure when it is."

"But still, he doesn't have magic," Draco argued. "How is he going to help us fight him?"

"Arthur is one of the highest skilled combatants that ever existed," Merlin told him stubbornly. "And he comes with a sword forged in a Dragon's breath, which can once and for all destroy the Horcruxes that have kept Voldemort alive until now, and will allow us to kill him for good. So don't you dare tell me he's no use in this war just because he's got no magic." Merlin did omit the fact that technically, he was on good enough terms with Excalibur's guardian to get to it without bringing back Arthur. Draco did not need to know that. 

"Right," Draco muttered, clearly suppressing a shudder at Merlin's words. "These ominous parts of the Dark Lord's soul that are apparently scattered all over the country." Of all the things Merlin had explained to Draco, this seemed to have traumatised the boy the most, proving to Merlin that he had indeed done the right thing in getting him out of this hellhole. Draco was no killer. On the contrary: The thought of cold-hearted murder seemed to sicken him. He wouldn't have lasted the year as a Death Eater. 

"Right," Merlin confirmed. "Arthur can help us destroy them. He doesn't need magic for that."

Draco hummed, not saying anything. Merlin sighed, taking his half-eaten plate from him, knowing Draco wouldn't be consuming any more of the food no matter how much Merlin pried. He brought it to the sink and started cleaning when Draco asked, quite suddenly: "Are you sure you have the right person?"

"What?" Merlin frowned, turning to look back at him. 

"Well," Draco shrugged, staring down at the point where his plate had just disappeared from the table. "Are you really sure that the prophecy referred to me?"

Merlin just looked at him, not answering for a long while. Truth be told, he hadn't been sure at all, at first. For the first couple of centuries, he had not even considered the possibility that anyone else could be involved in Arthur's fate. He had just spent his days hidden away in his little cottage at the side of Lake Avalon, waiting for Arthur to reappear. But one catastrophe upon another befell Albion and later England and then Britain, and the lake's surface still remained as untouched as ever, as if it had never been housing a different dimension in the first place. When the Great War came, Merlin had been so sure that this would be it, but still, there had been no sign of Arthur, much to his despair. Not even during the next war, with the added horror of Grindelwald's crimes, and by that point, Merlin had been past the point of endurance. He couldn't just sit around and  _ wait _ any longer - he needed to get out into the world and find a way to bring Arthur back, discover the reason why Avalon was still keeping him locked away. 

So he had started tracking down the remaining beings of the Old Religion. It wasn't easy - most practitioners had died out centuries ago, fallen prey to the great purge of the Middle Ages, but there had still been some stray ones left, most of either Druidic descent or with roots in the Sidhe class. He eventually found a half-Fey seer who'd been able to help him. 

_ The Once and Future King will return upon the second rise of the Dark Lord who cannot be killed by anyone other than the child who he marks as his equal,  _ she had told him, usually green eyes glowing bright red.  _ Emrys will call him back, together with a being of the same kin as he. They will call upon the power of the waters and the sky and bring him back. _

Back then, Merlin had had no idea what it meant. Lord Voldemort had still been a child and had completely slipped off Merlin's radar, and he had despaired over the words that had made absolutely no sense to him. 

Then, Voldemort had started gaining followers, and the picture had started to paint itself. Merlin had begun surrounding himself with dragons, thinking that was what the prophecy had referred to. The species had been preserved, untrue to Kilgharrah's prognosis, though that had been due to foreign influences more than anything else. Nowadays' dragons, though, had lost their ability to speak and had made it therefore much more difficult for Merlin to determine fitting candidates, despite his natural affinity for the species. 

Upon Voldemort's resurrection last year, he had put all his efforts into testing out his selection, only to quickly realise that he had been on the wrong track. 

Then, and only then, had Draco caught his eye. Draco, whose name literally translated to  _ Dragon.  _ The prophecy had never specified whether to look for a wizard or a creature, right? And it would make so much more sense for it to be a wizard. Of course, dragons still had magic, but it was nothing like the powers Kilgharrah had wielded back in the days. It would be much easier to connect with the magic of another sorcerer, even if he was used to modern magic. 

So he had taken to watching Draco, observing his every movement. He had been skeptical, at first, he had to admit. The son of a Death Eater seemed to be less than an ideal candidate, and he seemed prejudiced to the bone. 

Then again, so had Arthur been when he'd met him. 

But then Draco's father had been imprisoned and he had been forced to take the Dark Mark and do his bidding. Things had changed, then, little by little. Draco's strong facade had cracked, along with the belief system he had taken over from his parents, and he'd reminded Merlin so much of Arthur in the moments that he'd struggled with the cruelty of Uther's reign that he couldn't help but feel sympathy for him.

So he decided to take the chance on him, in the end. Truthfully, he was still not sure whether it was the correct decision or not. Draco was a flawed and troubled boy and Merlin had no proof that the prophecy meant him.

He just knew that he  _ wanted _ it to be him.

"I'm sure," Merlin said, at last. 

Draco nodded, taking a deep breath, his shoulders slumping slightly in what seemed to be relief. 

Merlin thought that, in this case, it was a necessary lie. And maybe a kind one, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! 
> 
> Thank you for all the love and support this story receives! I'm reading all your comments with immense joy!! This time, I'm back with Arthur's return. This part consists of three snippets and three POVs. I hope you'll enjoy it!!
> 
> PS: This fic has been updated fairly frequently until now, but please don't get used to it. I can't promise to keep the speed up :-X Hope you'll understand.

The sun was barely showing through the clouds as Draco and Merlin lined up at the shore of Lake Avalon, preparing to cast the spell that would, hopefully, bring Arthur back to the living world. Merlin took a deep breath of the still fresh morning air, trying to calm his nerves. It would not do to let it show that he was a nervous wreck on the inside. It would only throw Draco, who had been dealing with all of this remarkably until now, and Merlin had every intention of acting his age and conducting himself with dignity. 

(In front of his inner eye, he could see Arthur draw both eyebrows up at that notion, and it almost made him smile.)

He had spent the last two weeks teaching Draco how to use magic the traditional way, without the use of his wand. It had been an exhausting process for the boy at first, who was, as most wizards nowadays, exclusively used to Modern Magic, but Draco was nothing if not diligent. He had stuck to it, and eventually, he had made progress, until Merlin had declared him ready for the actual attempt the previous afternoon. 

Merlin could tell that Draco was nervous, but he tried hard not to show it. His grey eyes were roaming out over the lake, only occasionally glancing at the man beside him, and only when Merlin broke the lingering silence between did he meet his gaze. 

"Are you all right to go?" Merlin asked, as steady as he could. 

Draco just nodded, not speaking. He held out his hand, palm up, for Merlin to take, as the ritual required. Merlin took it, noting how clammy Draco's skin was.

Merlin took a moment to reach out to the magic within the waters in front of them and the skies above them, knowing that he'd have to do most of the work between himself and Draco, but that was beside the point. Draco served his purpose just by participating.

And Merlin wasn't Magic Incarnate for nothing, after all. 

When he was ready, he counted to three, and they recited the ancient words they had practised together, over and over again, until Merlin had heard Draco mumble them in his sleep from the room he was sleeping in, across the hall from Merlin's.

The magic awoke to their call, the clouds receding, unveiling an unnaturally golden sky. The water of the lake stirred, tiny waves at first which turned to a maelstrom near the centre. Draco was gripping Merlin's hand so tightly it hurt, but he did not stop chanting.

And then, _he_ rose from the depths of the water, and the maelstrom came to a slow conclusion. Merlin couldn't breathe, his heart threatening to thunder out of his chest as he stared at Arthur's dark golden hair clinging damply to his face, his eyes closed as he stood completely still, soaking wet chainmail making him seem like an apparition straight out of Camelot. 

Shakily, Merlin dropped Draco's hand, feeling the magic around them falling away and knowing that it was done. It wasn't until Arthur opened his eyes, though, clear blue blinking almost sleepily into the direction they were standing in, that a word, like a sob, was drawn from his lips.

" _ Arthur," _ he brought out, his voice rough and croaked from the impending tears, but loud enough to carry across the lake, it seemed. 

Arthur blinked a couple of times, water falling from his eyelids, and he shook his head once as if to clear it.

"Merlin?" he replied, questioningly, perhaps in wonder.

At that, Merlin broke. He did not care that tears were falling from his eyes, or whimpers from his mouth, for his King, his  _ friend, _  had finally returned to him, after centuries spent in loneliness. 

***

What shook Draco almost more than the person rising out of the lake - the legendary King Arthur, his mind supplied, and yes,  _ he  _ had brought him back, he in collaboration with the even more legendary  _ Merlin -  _ take that, Potter - was the tone of Merlin's voice when he caught sight of his returned King. 

Merlin had always been fairly composed, ever since Draco met him. Sure, he had been much more approachable than he had expected a thousand-year-old, world-famous, assumed-to-be-dead sorcerer to be, but he had never appeared to be particularly vulnerable, or in any way discountenanced.

But now, Merlin was quickly falling apart, unravelling right before their very eyes, and it felt so plainly  _ wrong  _ that Draco quickly turned away.

He heard it when Merlin entered the lake, the wet noises of a man hastily treading through water - clumsily, too, by the sound of it - and then, Merlin and Arthur were talking, low words in a language Draco did not understand.

All the time, he kept his back turned, unwilling to intrude on what he felt was a private moment. 

***

Arthur's head felt like it was filled with the water of the lake he was standing in. Thoughts and realisations seemed to only reach him slowly, as if they needed to dive through its depths to reach his brain, or maybe wait until the water had drained out by his ears, like a vessel with a hole in it. 

He was staring mulishly as Merlin drew closer, wading through the water, almost falling over in his desperation to get to him, and he was saying things, but the words took longer than they should to register with him. 

"You're back," he said, and there were tears in his eyes and then, his friend was right in front of him, holding onto him. Arthur staggered at the contact, but Merlin held him upright. "You're really  _ back.  _ We did it! By the Gods, we did it!"

"I…" Arthur frowned, searching Merlin's eyes. "I was dead?"

He phrased it like a question, but he was sure that he had been dead. He remembered dying. Remembered lying in Merlin's arms and feeling, if not happy, content and safe. It had been a good way to go, having Merlin there with him. Merlin had always had a way to make him feel like everything was going to be all right, even if it wasn't. 

He had been at peace.

And then, he could remember an indefinably long stretch of emptiness. A vacuum of sorts, in which Arthur had been aware and yet could not feel, not see, not hear. He'd known he'd been dead, yet, if pressed, he wouldn't have been able to say  _ where _  he'd been. 

Maybe, he thought, some clarity returning as his eyes hung on a tear sliding down Merlin's cheek, he had simply been waiting. 

He had missed Merlin's response to his words, head too sluggish to listen properly, but he figured he did not need it, anyway. He reached out to Merlin, quite on reflex, and wiped at his tear-stained cheek. It did no good because Arthur was wet all over and he only smeared him with lake water instead. 

"I'm sorry," Arthur breathed, frowning. "For leaving."

Merlin's lip trembled, and he found himself wrapped into a tight embrace, his friend heaving sobs against his shoulder. 

Despite the heaviness of the situation, Arthur found it quite soothing. Merlin was familiar against him and he could just close his eyes and let himself arrive home. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Thank you for all the support you are giving this story, it makes me very happy to read all your comments! Now that Arthur is back, the new update deals with Arthur coming to terms with his new situation. Hope you enjoy it!!

Arthur watched with raised eyebrows as Merlin buzzed around the kitchen of this peculiar little cottage he had brought him to, obviously unable to stand still. In the last couple of minutes, Merlin had already magically dried him down and then applied a number of spells on him that had first stopped his head from spinning, then made it spin again by helping it process a new sort of language Merlin insisted he needed, then stopped it from spinning once more. Then, he'd pushed him into a chair and served him some tea that smelled exactly like one of Gaius' brews from Camelot. 

Arthur had no idea what he was doing now, though. For all the world, it looked like Merlin was  _ cleaning his kitchen -  _ he was putting away pots and wiping the sink and it all looked terribly like some form of stress cleaning. 

Arthur opened his mouth, about to point out that in all the years under his employ, Merlin had never been  this  _ fastidious _ , when another exasperated voice beat him to it. 

"For Merlin's - UGH, bloody  _ hell,  _ I can't even  _ curse  _ properly anymore - Merlin, in Salazar's name, just sit down, you're making me jumpy!"

The order came from a young boy, probably around the age he'd first met Merlin, who was sitting across from him at the table. He had very bright blond hair and grey eyes that glowered icily in Merlin's direction, as though he was a particularly annoying insect. He was wearing long, black robes and had his arms crossed in a gesture that looked both moody and defensive. 

A put-upon sigh sounded from Merlin's side and he mumbled something about Salazar not having any power over him, but he took a seat anyway, to Arthur's right and the boy's left.

Arthur's eyes met Merlin's, and there was a moment of tense silence. Then, in lack of anything better to say, Arthur nodded towards the boy and asked: "Who is he?"

"His name is Draco," Merlin answered, his voice soft. "He helped me bring you back. He's staying with me."

"Oh," Arthur frowned, letting the information sink in. "Is he…?" For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say the word 'sorcerer', despite the knowledge of Merlin's powers and that he had never harmed him. 

Draco had no such qualms, though. 

"A wizard?" he asked, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "Why, yes, I am. What are you going to do? Burn me at the stake?"

"Draco," Merlin said, a note of warning in his voice. 

Draco just glared defiantly at Arthur, challenging him with his eyes. It took a moment for Arthur to find his voice. 

"I'm not my father," he told him decisively. "I admit, I've made a lot of mistakes during the days of my reign, but you have nothing to fear from me. I mean you no harm."

Draco looked like he wanted to protest, but was too aware of Merlin's eyes on him to do so. So instead, he stayed silent. 

Arthur took a deep breath, suddenly wondering about his legacy with the magical folk. About his legacy in general. 

"Merlin," he asked abruptly, turning to find his gaze. "How much time has passed since my death?" Merlin paled at that question, and he averted his gaze. Arthur felt slightly sick at his friend's reaction, but swallowed his sense of foreboding and pushed on. "Merlin," he repeated, trying to infuse an essence of authority into his voice. "How long?"

Gulping, Merlin met his eyes again and whispered, barely audible: "A thousand four hundred and sixty years."

Arthur gaped at him, unable to comprehend the number. This had to be a mistake. Merlin had to have counted wrong, or maybe he'd taken wrong records and… But the answer was plain in the haunted look in Merlin's eyes: It really had been this long, and Merlin had waited for him every second of it.

"You've been alive for more than a millennium," Arthur breathed, incredulous. " _ How,  _ Merlin?"

Merlin grimaced. "See, I'm sort of immortal? I can still die when I'm killed, but not by old age or any natural courses."

"Oh," Arthur said weakly. "So you've hung around this lake for a thousand years waiting for me to come back?"

"I've done other things, too," Merlin said in a small voice. 

"Yeah," Draco piped in with a sly grin. "Like find out how to resurrect him - ow!"

Arthur was pretty sure Merlin had just kicked Draco under the table, but he was too distracted by the fact that  _ Merlin had stuck around Arthur's watery grave for a thousand fucking years  _ to ponder the matter. The knowledge did  _ things _ to Arthur, and considering that he hadn't felt anything in quite a long time, he was not sure how to handle these emotions spreading through him now. 

So he chose the coping mechanism he had down to perfection: he pushed the feeling away and focused on a different problem. 

"So," he spoke up, clearing his throat as Merlin looked up at him, still red-faced and embarrassed. "Why exactly did you bring me back now, after such a long time?"

"Oh," Merlin muttered, clearing his throat with an expression that told him that he wished they could have brought this subject up at a later point in time. "You see, there was this prophecy about you rising again at the time of Albion's greatest need?"

"Albion is in danger?" Arthur asked, sitting a little straighter at the news. 

"There's a very powerful Dark Wizard who's been gaining power for a couple of years," Merlin told him, his face troubled now. "If we don't stop him, there's no telling what he might end up doing, not to mention the damage he might do to the natural balance of the world. He has been meddling with quite a few things he had no business meddling with, you see."

"Like when Morgana tore down the veil between the worlds?" Arthur asked, feeling cold at the memories of Merlin's cold body and losing Lancelot. 

"Not the same, but similar," Merlin nodded. "He's commanding creatures called Dementors that feed off people's happiness and can suck the soul from a person's body."

"They sound like Dorocha," Arthur shuddered, unable to help himself. 

"There's a distant relation," Merlin said grimly. "This is not all, though. He's also raising what's basically his equivalent to an Army of Dead, called Inferi."

"Is he more powerful than Morgana?" Arthur asked, the feeling of horror settling deep in his stomach. 

"I wouldn't say that," Merlin pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. "He uses his power differently. Morgana was a priestess of the Old Religion. Voldemort uses modern magic and dabbles in whatever ancient rituals he can find that could be twisted to his advantage."

"Okay," Arthur said, frowning at him. "Not to doubt that prophecy or anything, but all in all, that sounds more like a job for you than for me. Aren't you supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer of all time?"

"Told you," Draco muttered, indicating that they'd had this discussion before. 

"Don't worry," Merlin replied, ignoring Draco completely. "You're not going to kill Voldemort. That's in someone else's cards." Arthur blinked, opening his mouth to ask who Merlin was talking about, but Merlin had already continued speaking. "You're here to help us make it possible in the first place. There's more to winning a war than killing the leader of the opposition, as you very well know."

"All right," Arthur said slowly. "I'm good at wars."

"I remember," Merlin conceded, with a little smile. Blue eyes hung on his face for a moment longer and they fell into silence. 

Draco broke the moment by clearing his throat and getting to his feet. 

"Right," he drawled. "I'm sure you have a thousand years worth of catching up to do, and I wouldn't want to be in the way. If you need me, I'll be in my room." 

And with that, he left the kitchen, and Arthur and Merlin to their own devices. 

Arthur turned to look at Merlin once more, struck by the emotion in Merlin's familiar yet strangely startling blue eyes. 

"You really waited for a thousand years, didn't you?" he couldn't help but say. When Merlin didn't answer, he huffed out an exasperated sigh. " _ Merlin,"  _ he scolded. Merlin averted his gaze and looked down at his own hands resting on the tabletop, smiling a self-deprecating smile that hurt Arthur to look at. "You really are a complete clotpole, aren't you?"

"That's my word," Merlin complained, and the smile twisted into something more genuine, much to Arthur's relief. 

"Well, takes one to know one," Arthur teased, delighted when Merlin snorted and raised his eyes to meet Arthur's again. 

They looked at each other for a long moment, not speaking. Then, before Arthur could talk himself out of it, he lay his hand on both of Merlin's, stopping his nervous fidgeting.

"Thank you," he said, watching Merlin's eyes widen. "For never forgetting me. For never giving up on me. And for bringing me back, in the end."

"I thought you might be angry with me," Merlin said in a small voice.

"Why would I be?" Arthur asked, stomped.

"I never asked if you wanted to return," Merlin shrugged. "Maybe you were happier in Avalon. This world is a mess, after all."

"Merlin," Arthur frowned, squeezing his hands. "I was neither happy nor unhappy in Avalon. I just  _ was.  _ So, no, I'm not angry. This world… it's not what I'm used to, but at least you are here."

At that, Merlin smiled, though his eyes were glazed over with emotions and the sheen of tears; yet it was a definite smile, and Arthur counted that as a success. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with the first proper conversation between Draco and Arthur! I've been dying to write this scene from the moment I decided to start this story, and I have been working on this scene on and off all week. I hope you'll like how it turned out :D
> 
> Enjoy!!

Draco was sitting in the shades of the large Birch tree right outside of Merlin's cottage, thankful for the tiny breeze that broke through the stale summer heat. He knew that he'd be more comfortable if he went inside - Draco did not know  _ what  _ sort of spells Merlin had cast on his walls, but they helped hold the temperature to a manageable level far better than anything he'd ever learned. 

Still, he preferred the tranquillity of the nature to Merlin's never-ending stream of consciousness, so he stayed where he was, in his peaceful solitude. 

Ever since they had resurrected King Arthur, Merlin had been in a constant state of energy. He had directed his pretty much  _ unbearable  _ chipperness exclusively towards his long-lost friend, a fact that Draco was, in equal measures, thankful for, and which made him at times feel left out, watching them both pour over Merlin's collection of history books or personal notes as Merlin mapped out the years his King had missed. Merlin had invited Draco to join them once or twice, but Draco knew that he could not cross that line. This was  _ theirs _ , something Merlin had waited more than a thousand years to enjoy, and he would not intrude where he had clearly no place. 

So instead, Draco took to spending his time alone, both to give them their privacy and to not have to watch them, because nothing felt more lonely than being in that house with them and feeling like the third wheel. 

That being the case, Draco was more than a little surprised when the door to the cottage opened, revealing none other than the Once and Future King himself, strolling out in loose-fitting Muggle-shorts and a T-shirt Merlin had equipped him with (for a legendary, immortal sorcerer who had lived in exile for centuries, his fashion sense was appallingly Muggle, and now he was even passing it on to other people). He stretched, looking utterly exhausted. It took a moment for his gaze to fall upon Draco, but when it did, he immediately stood a little straighter, something that almost made Draco smile, because he knew that instinctive fallback on inbred demeanour all too well. It was only something highborn people did. 

"Draco," he said, nodding at him. "I didn't know you were out here."

"Your Majesty," Draco greeted, keeping his voice as neutral as he could. He probably wasn't very successful, though, because the King frowned at him, shaking his head. 

"I thought I told you to call me 'Arthur'," he scolded him. "I know the Wizarding Society doesn't recognise any royalty, so I'm not your King, and even if you weren't a Sorcerer, there is a different ruling family now. So there's really no need to stick to the titles. Even Merlin only calls me 'Sire' as a synonym for 'prat' these days."

Draco bit his lip, trying once more to suppress an involuntary smile. Sometimes, he almost forgot that he didn't trust this man.

The King looked at him with sharp eyes, still frowning, before heaving a deep sigh and lowering himself onto the ground next to Draco. Draco almost groaned. He just wanted to be left alone. But His Royal Stubbornness didn't seem likely to grant him his wish as he turned to face Draco, same calculating look in his eyes as he demanded: "You don't like me, do you?"

Draco gave him a pointed look and did not answer. It seemed enough to deliver the message, though. 

"Thought so," the King sighed, and to his credit, he did look neither offended nor surprised. "Well, my family did an awful lot of injustice to your kind back in our days."

"You don't say," Draco scoffed before he could help himself. He clapped his mouth shut immediately, staring straight ahead, out over the lake, but he could feel the King watching him. 

"What exactly is my legacy with the magical folk?" he asked quietly, surprising Draco with the question. "Tell me. Merlin won't answer properly whenever I ask."

Draco glanced at him sideways, brows furrowed. 

"Well," he started, holding in to choose his words more carefully this time. "Obviously you kept the greatest sorcerer of all times as your manservant, and never gave him any credit for saving your arse over and over again."

He was surprised to see the King flinch at his words, as if Draco had slapped him.  _ Interesting,  _ he thought. 

"Not only that, though," Draco continued. "You made him hide who he was, made him think it was something to be ashamed of. So, yes, you might not have been as bad as your father, actively hunting down every sorcerer in his land, but you're still essential to our philosophy of having to hide who we truly are. Of not being accepted for our true selves."

"I  _ did  _ accept Merlin," the King protested, but his voice was rough and Draco's words had clearly shaken him. 

"Yeah, but when? When you were dying," Draco rolled his eyes. "What difference did that make, really?"

"I think it meant a great deal to him," the King snapped, defensive now. "Don't you dare act like you understand anything about Merlin and me!"

There was a ringing silence between them, before Draco nodded, once. "Fine," he conceded. "It's not my place to talk about you and Merlin. But you asked about your legacy with the Magical world, and that's the message it sent to us. That you didn't cherish your most loyal friend because of his powers. That you were too prejudiced to see who was truly on your side. That you stupidly clung onto the ideals of your father instead of turning a new page."

The King didn't say anything for a long, long while. Then, he took a deep breath and nodded. 

"That's fair," he muttered, sounding pained. "I didn't cherish Merlin enough. You are right. I was blind to a lot of things back in Camelot, and my biggest regret is that I failed him. I don't expect you to understand," he grimaced, shaking his head. "I know it sounds like excuses to you, knowing what he has done, but… I  _ did _ love my father, and I believed in him. Or I wanted to. I know now that his actions and his motives were as wrong as the night is dark, but back then… He was my father, and I'd grown up with him telling me that magic was evil. It took Merlin to make me understand that this was wrong, and then it was too late to do anything about it."

Draco's chest felt tight at the King's words, and he tried very hard not to look at him. Because all of this, about loving a father you  _ knew _ wasn't entirely good and wanting to believe in him and his words anyway, all of it sounded way too familiar to Draco.

"I know this is… difficult for you," the King continued, haltingly, and finally, Draco looked up to meet his eyes. "But Merlin wants us to work together and I don't want to disappoint him. So maybe, you can try to accept my sincere vows that I won't ever hurt anyone because of their magic again. Or, well," he allowed, making a face, "not unless they are trying to hurt us, that is. Everyone who gets too close to Merlin is fair game."

Draco couldn't help but snort out a laugh at that. The corners of the King's mouth twitched into a tentative smile. It took Draco a while to gather the words that fought against being released, but the King -  _ Arthur _ \- had been honest with him, so maybe, it was time to try and be sincere in return. 

"I know what it feels like, to struggle with your family's beliefs and expectations," Draco admitted, at last, rather unwillingly. He stretched out his left arm, revealing the place where the Dark Mark was marring his pale skin. Arthur stared at it, no trace of recognition in his blue eyes. Draco balled his fist, making the tendons and veins stand out painfully. "My parents are on  _ his _ side," Draco admitted, his lips curling into a nasty grimace. "My father kills for the Dark Lord. The bastard is living in my house. They made me join his ranks."

Arthur let out a long, slow breath, but did not comment. Draco was strangely grateful.

"I believed in it, at first," Draco shrugged. "Like you, I love my parents. It didn't occur to me to doubt their judgement. But then when I joined…" Draco laughed, without humour. "I was a horrible Death Eater. Truly dreadful. I couldn't even kill a Muggle for fun, much less a Wizard facing off against me. If my father knew I had you in my grasp and wasn't trying to finish you off, he'd disown me."

To his surprise, Arthur only chuckled at that, shaking his head.

"That sounds familiar," he muttered. "My own father once haunted me from the other world for the way I chose to reign Camelot. And that was  _ before  _ I knew about Merlin."

Draco rolled his eyes, despite himself. 

"Why are families so difficult?" he asked, without expecting an answer. 

"I wonder," Arthur shrugged, suddenly subdued. "I'm afraid I never quite got the hang of the whole family deal. My sister succeeded in having me killed, my Uncle betrayed me, my mother gave her life for mine…" Draco did not know what to say to that. He thought of his own mother, who had never been anything but loving towards him, and missed her with a burning passion, to the point where he almost hated himself for leaving her behind, despite knowing she'd have never agreed to accompany him. "I guess that's why Merlin is so important to me now," Arthur said eventually, his voice very quiet, as if it took effort for him to speak these words out loud. "He's always been my closest friend, but now he's also my family, in a way. He's everything I have left. He's  _ everything."  _ The last part was breathed out, fiercely, and Draco wondered if Arthur was trying to convince himself of what Merlin was to him as much as Draco. 

Instead of commenting on it, Draco said: "Merlin got me out of there. He helped me escape from that house and made sure that they wouldn't come after me. He's… the first one who really gave me a choice. Who really believed I could be more than my parents made me out to be."

"He does that," Arthur nodded, the smile back on his face, fond now. "Sometimes I wonder how the world deserves him."

"He's a good person," Draco agreed.

"He is," Arthur said, glancing back towards the house, before turning back towards him and telling him conspiratorially: "Though he's also driving me up the walls with these history lessons. I mean, I realise I need to know all of this, but he's on my back  _ all the bloody time.  _ I can't take a breath."

Draco tried very hard to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching into a smile, but it was a lost battle; he knew it, and from the way Arthur's eyes sparkled knowingly, he realised, too.

"You can't blame him for missing you," Draco said reasonably. "You're the one who selfishly died on him and made him fend for himself for centuries. He's bound to be clingy after that."

"' _ Selfishly' _ ?!" Arthur repeated, incredulous. "I died in battle, defending Camelot! I died in  _ honour _ ! There was nothing selfish about it!"

"Well," Draco said, drawing out the vowel. "You  _ did  _ cling to your aversion to magic, though, and if you hadn't, you might not have died. So there was a little selfishness involved."

Arthur gaped at him, looking completely stomped, and Draco couldn't help himself - he snorted, betraying his amusement. Arthur's eyes narrowed, and he glowered as Draco dissolved into a series of decidedly ungracious giggles, trying his best to stifle the noise in his fist.

"Are you quite done?" Arthur asked, clearly unimpressed. 

"Your  _ face _ ," Draco wheezed. "You looked like you were about to charge me with treason!"

"If you're not careful, I'll find a way to do it," Arthur grumbled, but he, too, was clearly suppressing a smile. "Brat."

"I'll have you know, I'm the heir to one of the oldest and most respected Pureblood families of Britain," Draco told him, without heat. "I might not have your meaningless title, but I'm still every bit as high-born as you."

"Oh?" Arthur asked, grinning. "So, once again, Merlin is surrounded by royalty? Good to know."

And as if Arthur had summoned him, Merlin burst through the door, frantically turning his head left and right before his eyes finally landed on the two of them. 

"Arthur!" he hissed. "You can't just  _ disappear  _ on me without notice!"

"I didn't  _ disappear!" _ Arthur protested, though there was a clear note of guilt in his tone. "I didn't even leave the premises! I was just talking to Draco!"

"I was in the bathroom and when I returned you were gone!" Merlin dead-panned, his eyes  wide and slightly wild. "Excuse me if that makes me a little jumpy!"

Draco flinched, figuring that after watching your friend die, spending more than a millennium on your own and then resurrecting him, you were bound to be paranoid about it all disappearing again. From the look on Arthur's face before he got to his feet, he seemed to realise that as well.

"Yeah, all right," Arthur conceded, approaching him carefully, as if he was soothing a scared animal. "I won't do it again. I promise."

Merlin glared at him and clenched his jaw. He gave a jerky nod, and Arthur placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

"Okay?" Arthur checked. "Can we now go inside and you'll cook me and Draco a nice dinner?"

"Why do  _ I  _ always have to cook?!" Merlin demanded, turning on Arthur with a different kind of outrage. 

"Because,  _ Merlin _ ," Arthur told him in a tone that suggested he thought he was being especially daft, and Draco couldn't help but admire the way he played him, knowing exactly how to distract his friend from his own demons by means of easy banter, "you  _ are _ my manservant, and as I just found out, Draco is some sort of royalty himself, so it only makes sense for you to take over the menial tasks."

"Draco is  _ not  _ royalty!" Merlin spluttered, outraged, clear blue eyes turning to glare daggers at  _ him  _ now. 

"Technically," Draco drawled, "the Malfoy family can be considered -"

"If anything,  _ I'm  _ the legendary sorcerer who outranks him!" Merlin cut over him, as if Draco hadn't spoken. 

"Details," Arthur waved him off. "Besides, you make a fantastic stew. Now, shoo."

And with that, he grasped both of Merlin's shoulders and marched him bodily back into the house, winking at Draco over the shoulder. 

_ Well,  _ Draco thought as he stared after them,  _ maybe King Arthur wasn't so bad, after all. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Back with a new snippet, and finally, the first mention of Harry (though not yet his first appearance, though I promise he will turn up very soon). I'm sorry it took so long to get there. Too much plot to get through beforehand. You know how it is ;) Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this!!

"No!" Draco shouted, slamming his fist dramatically on the tabletop as he rose to his feet, his pale skin flushed a furious red as he glared at Merlin. "No way!"

_ Oh dear,  _ Arthur thought, silently. In his admittedly short marriage to Gwen he had never been blessed with children, but this, he thought, was what it must feel like to be on the receiving side of one of their tantrums. 

"Draco," Merlin sighed, rubbing his temple in an apparent attempt to assuage a headache. "Please sit down. Let's talk about this."

"Talk?! You lied to me!" Draco accused, pointing an accusing finger in his direction. 

"Now,  now," Merlin said, frowning. "I did not  _ lie.  _ I only omitted some truths, that's all."

"That's a thing he does," Arthur commented before he could help himself. Merlin glowered at him. Arthur sank further into his chair, trying to make himself invisible. 

"You knew I wouldn't have gone along with this if I had known that you were going to involve Harry Bloody Potter!" Draco yelled, thankfully ignoring Arthur's input. "You played me!"

"Well, you left me no choice," Merlin told him, his voice hard. "You would never have listened to me if I had mentioned Potter. And I needed to get you out of there. It was for your own good, Draco, and we both know it."

"Who are you to decide what's good for me?!" Draco challenged. "You're no better than my parents! You make decisions _for_ me and expect me to go along with them!"

"Draco," Arthur frowned, shaking his head. "I think that's enough. You know this is not true."

"Oh, do I?" Draco called, turning on Arthur now. "Do you know that the boy he's planning to recruit for our team tried to kill me only a couple of weeks ago?!"

"He did not," Merlin said tiredly before Arthur could say anything. "It was an accident."

"What do  _ you  _ know about it?!" Draco called, facing Merlin again. 

"Because I've been watching you for the past year, Draco, and I saw it happen, "Merlin told him. "He didn't know what the spell did, and he felt horrible afterwards."

"Nonsense!" Draco called. "Why would he?! He hates me!"

"Disliking someone and wanting them dead are two very different things, as you very well know," Merlin said, very quietly, and Draco twitched as if slapped. "Besides, I know you tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on him. Don't play innocent, Draco."

Draco pressed his lips closed into a tight line and said nothing. Merlin sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

"We need him, Draco," he continued explaining. "And more importantly, he needs us. He's the one who is destined to kill Voldemort."

"Oh," Draco sneered, "don't tell me you believe all that  _ Chosen One  _ crap!"

"It's the truth," Merlin said simply. "It was foretold. The only thing we can do now is helping him get the job done as quickly as possible, with as few casualties as possible, because if we leave him to chase down Dumbledore's path of secrets and sacrifices, it will take way too long."

Draco's face was pinched. Arthur could tell that he was trying hard not to start yelling again. 

"This is way bigger than your silly schoolboy feud, Draco," Merlin told him, his voice hard. "This is about the balance of our world, and I need you to be rational about this. If you can't do that, I will need to deliver you back to the Manor." Draco paled at Merlin's words, so Arthur assumed they were a terrifying enough threat. "I don't want to," Merlin told him, "but you would leave me no choice. So can I count on you?"

Draco stared at him for a long moment, not speaking. Then, he nodded, still wordlessly. 

"Good," Merlin said, sending him a small smile. 

Draco didn't return it. Instead, he nodded and backed out of the kitchen, leaving Merlin and Arthur to their own devices. 

Merlin sighed, burrowing his face in his hands. 

"Well, that was unpleasant," he muttered, his voice muffled. 

"Yup," Arthur agreed, drawing the word out. "You know, we're doing this backwards. We're getting the hormonal teenagers without having any of the fun that should come prior to that, dear."

Merlin choked on his breath. His face was flushed when he glowered at Arthur, but Arthur only grinned innocently. 

"Don't even make jokes," Merlin groaned. "This is only  _ one  _ teenager! You realise we're getting another  _ three!"  _

"Three?" Arthur called out, incredulous. "I thought it was only that Potter boy?"

"You really thought Harry Potter, Lord Voldemort's greatest enemy, was currently hiding out there alone? No, Arthur. His best friends are with them, and we'll have to take them all in if we want to work with Harry."

"That sounds like more trouble than it's worth," Arthur noted unhappily, and Merlin elbowed him. 

"I think Harry and Hermione will be no problem at all," Merlin shrugged. "Harry and Draco  _ together  _ will be a problem. And apparently, Ron can have a temper if he wants to, and he hates Draco almost as much as Harry."

"Great," Arthur replied, mock-cheerful. "Cockfights in this house. Just what I needed to feel like home." 

"Oh," Merlin snorted, grinning at Arthur. " _ Cock _ fights, is it? Now I know what you knights got up to every time I wasn't around…"

Arthur's mouth fell open, and he laughed. 

"You!" he sputtered. "I never knew you had such a filthy mouth, Merlin!"

"You just make it easy for me," Merlin grinned, getting up to cross the kitchen and turn on the tap to wash his hands. "So, what's it gonna be, Your Royal Prattiness?" Merlin asked over his shoulder. "Now that we apparently have acquired kids, will you help me make dinner?"

Arthur snorted. "Have you ever seen me cook?" he asked. 

"You can handle swords without killing yourself," Merlin threw back, grinning. "I'm sure you can manage to cut a few vegetables. Come on, I'll show you."

And like this, Arthur was commandeered around the kitchen, but somehow, he found that he didn't mind as much as he thought he would. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I know it's been a while, but I'm finally back with the first appearance of the Golden Trio! The scene wasn't easy to write, and it gave me (and Merlin) quite a few grey hairs, but I hope you'll enjoy it! :D

"Arthur…" Merlin sighed, looking at him warily. 

Arthur, though, had built himself up to his full height in front of him, which was still slightly shorter than him but was surely meant to be menacing, and he was glowering at him mulishly.

"No, Merlin," he growled. "You are not going alone."

Merlin took a deep breath. He threw an imploring glance at Draco, but the boy only carelessly munched away on his cereal at the breakfast table, definitely less than helpful. 

"Arthur," Merlin tried again, turning back to him. "It's not like I'm going to face Morgana or anything like that. I'm going to collect a couple of  _ kids _ . I'm going to be fine."

"Kids who are on the run and might think you're the enemy," Arthur pointed out between clenched teeth. "I'm not taking any chances with your  _ life _ , Merlin."

"See," Merlin muttered, a little pained now, "that's the point, though. They are going to be pretty jumpy as it is. And you're not exactly…" He held in, hoping that Arthur would get the message without him having to spell it out, but of course, His Royal Obtuseness didn't grant him that favour. 

"I'm  _ what,  _ Merlin?" Arthur snapped. 

Merlin's eyes pointedly flew to Excalibur in Arthur's hand, which they had retrieved only the week before, and Arthur's gaze followed before finally, he grimaced in realisation. 

"Fine!" he grumbled. "I'll leave it behind! But I'm coming!"

"Arthur, please," Merlin tried once more, tentatively. "I don't want to have to focus on you not getting hurt, too. I'll have enough on my hands trying to talk them down from their suspicions."

"Which is  _ exactly  _ why I want to be there," Arthur called, his voice getting louder now, and he looked honestly upset. "To have your back! We're a team, Merlin! Why did you bring me back if you wanted to wrap me up in blankets and keep me away from all the danger?"

Merlin flinched, biting his lip. It took a moment and a couple of deep breaths before he managed to answer. 

"Okay," he gave in, rather unwillingly. "Okay, you can come along. But please stay behind me, at least as long as they still have their wands. And let me do the talking."

Arthur seemed slightly appeased at getting the permission to accompany him, but that last comment made him raise his eyebrows again in challenge. 

"Oh, because you're so talented at diplomacy?" he sniped. "Who ruled a kingdom?'

"And who wrote most of your speeches?' Merlin deadpanned, making Draco snort into his bowl. Arthur flushed. "Now, let's get going before they change location and I have to track them down again."

He held his arm out to Arthur for the Apparition, but Arthur's attention was now on Draco, his gaze questioning. 

"You aren't coming?" he asked. 

Again, Draco snorted, though this time, it was accompanied by a rather dramatic eye-roll.

"Believe me, you don't want me there," he ensured Arthur. "My company will put you in certain enemy territory. Better to get them here before you confront them with my charming self."

Eyebrows raised, Arthur turned to look at Merlin, who had nothing to add to Draco's rather accurate statements and shrugged. 

"Ready?" he asked, his fingers wrapping around Arthur's wrist.

"Um," Arthur said eloquently, looking nervous now. "So, you'll do the thing and -"

"We'll appear there," Merlin confirmed. "It will only take a second."

"Alright," Arthur nodded, visibly steeling himself. "Sure. Go ahead."

Merlin smiled at him, despite himself, and mindlessly reached out to the magic, asking it to take them where they needed to go.

A moment later, they appeared in the middle of some forest. There was a stream to their right and to their left, Merlin could feel the invisible wards the teenagers had erected for their safety. 

"Is this the place?" Arthur asked, still a little unsteady from their Apparition but grinding his teeth against it bravely. 

"Yes," Merlin confirmed, squeezing his wrist before letting go. "Just let me -"

He turned towards the wards and reached out his hands, feeling the barrier where the magic was trying to keep them out. Then, he worked his own magic against them, ancient and so much stronger that the wards simply crumbled under the pressure, like a house of cards under a hurricane. 

And then, from one moment to another, they could see them: Three teenagers, Draco's age, two boys and one girl, standing in front of a tent, frozen with shock and fear and wands poised at them. The redhead among them looked a little worse for the wear, Merlin noticed - his arm was bandaged and the others were shielding him, determined to protect their friend. 

"Who are you?" the dark-haired boy among them demanded, and Merlin held up both hands in a universal gesture of 'We mean no harm'.

"We're not your enemies," he promised. "We just want to talk to you. So please lower your wands."

"Nice try," the redhead - Ron Weasley - muttered. 

"How did you find us?" the bushy-haired girl asked, voice and eyes sharp as she stared Merlin down. "How did you penetrate our protective spells? I put them up myself, we were supposed to be safe!" 

"You were," Merlin ensured them. "Only I'm not exactly what you'd call ' _ normal people' _ .”

He meant that statement to be reassuring, but unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. 

" _ Who _ are you?" the boy with the dark, wild hair - Harry Potter himself - repeated, a little more forceful this time. Merlin felt Arthur tensing at his shoulder. 

"I'd really hoped we could start with a less complicated question," Merlin sighed. "But okay. My name -" he pointed to himself, "is Merlin, and this -" he pointed to Arthur, who was still standing a step behind him, like instructed, "is Arthur."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, Ron sputtered: " _ What?!" _

Harry blinked at him, clearly not quite having caught on. The girl, though - Hermione Granger - obviously understood exactly what Merlin was saying. 

"Excuse me," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "But you don't mean to say that you're the actual legendary sorcerer Merlin of Ealdor and King Arthur of Camelot? Who, incidentally, happen to have died hundreds of years ago?"

"True in Arthur's case, not so true in mine," Merlin conceded. "But you're a well-read girl, aren't you, Hermione? Surely you heard of the prophecy stating that the Once and Future King will return upon the time of Albion's greatest need?" 

Hermione stared at him, mouth opening and closing like that of a goldfish. 

"You don't actually believe him, do you?!" Ron hissed. 

"I…" Hermione muttered, not answering. Merlin could see the wheels in her head turning, trying to figure out how else they could have gotten through her wards. 

“I know,” Merlin said soothingly, taking pity on her. “It sounds pretty far-fetched. I might not trust myself if I were in your position. But the sooner we get past the shock of Arthur and my identities, the easier the rest of this will go, I promise.”

“The rest of this?” Harry demanded, his fingers tightening around his wand. “What exactly are you planning?” 

Merlin sighed, grimacing. “I’d really prefer it if you’d lower your wand,” he tried.

“Fat chance,” Ron spat.

“Careful,” Arthur growled, his voice dangerous. 

“Arthur,” Merlin hissed, not taking his eyes off the wands directed at him. “What did we talk about?” Arthur’s silence was answer enough. Merlin cleared his throat. “I’m warning you,” Merlin said, now to the teenagers facing them again. “If you don’t lower your wands, I’ll have to disarm you so we can talk calmly.”

_ “Excuse me?!”  _ Ron demanded, sounding outraged.

“Ron,” Hermione warned, her own voice wary. 

“He doesn’t even have a wand, Hermione!” Ron pointed out. “It’s empty threats!”

“I don’t think he needs one,” Hermione muttered. “They got through our wards, after all.”

“You must have made a mistake, then.”

“ _ My wards were perfect, Ronald!” _

“They were,” Merlin confirmed, to break up their fight. “And Hermione’s right, I don’t need a wand.” To prove truth to his words, he reached out for his magic, his eyes flashing golden as he asked it to  _ pull. _

And just like that, Ron’s wand flew into their direction, the redheaded boy staring after it incredulously. Arthur caught it, as if on instinct, and then scanned it cautiously, turning it over in his hand as if he expected it to explode. 

“Now, please,” Merlin said pleasantly. “Lower your wands. I just want to talk.”

Harry stared at him, mouth open, blinking. Hermione, though, looked like her worst fears had been confirmed. She dutifully lowered her wand and hissed at Harry to do the same. 

“Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “So. Let’s say you’re really Merlin and Arthur. What brings you here?”

“I think you can figure that part out by yourself,” Merlin smiled. “Arthur returned upon the time of Albion's greatest need. You are hunting Horcruxes in an attempt to destroy Lord Voldemort. We want to help.”

“How do you know that’s what we’re doing?” Harry demanded. “No one knows! Dumbledore gave me that mission personally before he died! I only told Ron and Hermione.”

“I don’t need to be told things to know them, Harry,” he explained softly. “If you’ve been in hiding for as long as I have, you have to find methods of watching the outside world.”

“He’s been spying on us,” Ron hissed, sounding slightly hysteric. “This is mental!”

“Listen,” Merlin sighed. “I know this sounds a little dubious from where you stand, but I promise, I’m not in lieu with Voldemort! I want the same thing as you, which is to have him destroyed. And if you don’t mind me saying, if you continue with the scavenger hunt Dumbledore sent you on, it’s going to take far too long, and too many innocent people will die, not to mention Voldemort will continue damaging the natural balance of the world. I would like to prevent that. Therefore, we need to work together.”

“If you know so much better than us,” Harry asked, a deep frown on his face, “then why aren’t you just doing it yourself?”

“For the same reason Dumbledore didn’t go for Voldemort himself, Harry,” Merlin sighed. “ _ I _ can’t. It’s gotta be you. You know the prophecy.”

“Then how can you help?” Harry demanded. 

“Well, for once, we have a weapon at hand that can destroy Horcruxes,” Merlin deadpanned. “So as soon as we get to my house, we can get rid of that ghastly amulet Ron is wearing.” They all jerked at his words, shocked to the bone by how much he knew. Merlin did not stop to let them process that new piece of information, though. “With my powers, I can also more easily help you track down the remaining Horcruxes,” Merlin continued, “not to mention there’s someone in our team at home who might provide helpful information. And, last but not least, I can protect you. You’re doing a great job taking care of yourselves, I’m sure, but you can run into Snatchers or Death Eaters any moment, and this is just not going to fly. I won’t stand for any damage that comes to you just because you think you can do things on your own.”

They all gaped at Merlin, looking positively thunderstruck, and he wondered if that had been a little too over-the-top. He turned to Arthur for instruction, who just raised his eyebrows at him. 

“Alright, then,” he said awkwardly, shrugging and looking from one dumbstruck face to the other. “Questions? Concerns? Now’s the time.”

“Questions?” Hermione repeated, weakly. “Enough to fill a book, actually. And concerns? Probably about as many.”

Merlin winced and rubbing his temples. “Would it help if I showed you bits and pieces of the past?” he asked, a bit desperate now. “To prove our identities?”

“Well,” Hermione said hesitantly. “Someone of your power could as well fake them, couldn’t he?”

“Yeah, but how many people of my powers are out there, Hermione?” Merlin demanded. “Don’t you think I’d be documented?” 

Hermione gnawed on her lip, seeming deeply conflicted, and Merlin heard Arthur sigh behind him.

“Okay,” Arthur spoke up, making Merlin tense in foreboding. “I get it. You don’t know whether or not to trust him. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

“Arthur,” Merlin warned, but Arthur ignored him.

“Merlin can be truly insufferable,” Arthur continued, making Merlin narrow his eyes and glared sideways at him. “He’ll talk to you like you’re the biggest possible idiot around, and it makes you want to  _ not  _ do what he says just to spite him. But,” Arthur’s tone changed them, and, much to Merlin’s surprise, there was a tiny, affectionate smile on his face as he continued: “Believe me what I say that experience taught me that it’s usually better to trust his judgement. He may be wrong every once in a while, but he’s always got the right intentions.”

Merlin just stared at Arthur’s profile, heart in his throat. He didn’t know how long it took for Harry to address him, but when he did, he jerked so badly he almost lost footing. Arthur automatically reached out to steady him. 

“You’re really the legendary wizard Merlin?” Harry asked, looking him right in the eye. 

Merlin blinked, and nodded, holding Harry’s gaze. He wasn’t sure what Harry saw in his eyes, but he pursed his lips, looking thoughtful now. “And you’re serious about helping us?” he checked. “About helping me?” 

“I swear on Arthur’s life,” Merlin said because he couldn’t think of anything more sacred to him, “that I am serious. And I would never gamble Arthur’s life.”

Harry took a deep breath. He looked over to Hermione, who seemed still a little torn, but mostly resigned. Then, he looked at Ron, who was quiet and sulky. 

“But if you’re Merlin, why aren’t you  _ old?” _ he burst out, sounding petulant. “Why don’t you have a beard?”

“Excuse me?” Arthur asked, sounding almost affronted.

“I’ll give you the books sometime,” Merlin snorted. “They’re both hilarious and disturbing.”

“I think it’s safe to say historians haven’t been quite right about their records of Arthurian history, Ron,” Hermione said faintly, and she was fidgeting, something that told Merlin that she was  _ dying _ to find out the truth.

“I can give you my recollections, if you want,” Merlin offered. “They’re handwritten, but they’re accurate.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and Merlin knew she was sold. 

“So, I guess this means we’re coming,” Harry chuckled, clearly realising the same thing. 

“A wise decision,” Merlin smiled, but his face fell a little when he saw Ron glaring at his friends. “Don’t worry,” he told him, not unkindly. “There are proper beds and food and I can take care of whatever happened to your arm. I swear we won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“Alright, then,” Ron muttered, seemingly mollified at the prospect of food. “Where’s your home?”

“Why don’t you pack and I’ll apparate us there,” he smiled, gesturing to Arthur to hand Ron his wand back, who did so hesitantly. Hermione set to work to magically fold the tent and pack it into a little pearl-handbag. “Oh,” he said, catching Arthur’s eyes apprehensively. “And this is probably the point where I should warn you that you’ll be meeting the, um, previously mentioned other  _ team member _ once we arrived home. And this might be a bit of a shock. Just, please promise me to keep an open mind, and no duels in my kitchen.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Sorry for the long wait. Life has been crazy lately, and I haven't really gotten around to this story. Barely managed to squeeze in finishing this chapter today and throwing it out. As I said, updates here might be a little irregular in the future. Hope you understand. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this update :)

When Merlin apparated in about half an hour later, not only Arthur in tow this time but three other very familiar faces, Draco was still sat at the kitchen table, now trying to engross himself in one of Merlin's books and stop his leg from bouncing up and down in nerves like the total loser he was. 

He took a deep breath when he heard the sound of the Apparition, his heart in his throat, and tried to collect himself. He needed to appear calm and level-headed. He had promised this to himself. 

When he looked up, Potter, Weasley and Granger all had their wands trained on him. 

"Oh no," Merlin said, his voice steely and a moment later, all their wands flew out of their hands and into his. With his eyes glowing golden, Merlin looked a little intimidating. "I told you, no duels in my kitchen."

"You lied to us!" Weasley snarled, pointing at Draco. "You never said you were working with  _ Malfoy!" _

"He likes to omit uncomfortable truths," Draco injected, with a shrug. "You'll get used to it."

"I had no choice!" Merlin called, now defensive. "You wouldn't have followed me here if you had known I was working with Draco, now would you?" 

"Damn right we wouldn't have!" Weasley agreed, not taking his eyes off Draco. "You lured us here under false pretences!"

"I did not!" Merlin insisted. "Everything I said was the truth. And I told you I'm working with someone else, who you were going to meet once you arrived here. I just didn't tell you it was Draco because I knew you'd be difficult about it!"

"Of course, we'd be!" Weasley called, outraged. "Do you even know who you let into your house?!"

"What exactly are you referring to, Weasley?" Draco sneered. "The fact that my father is a Death Eater, or that I am marked myself? That I led Death Eaters into the school a couple of months ago to assist me in murdering Dumbledore? Because Merlin is aware of all of that."

"Then he's a liar!" Weasley snapped. "He isn't on  _ our  _ side, after all!"

"That's quite enough," Arthur interrupted, his voice as hard as his expression. "Merlin gave Draco a chance! What's wrong with that? It only shows that he's a bigger man than you are."

Weasley's face turned the shape of puce at Arthur's words, as Draco noticed with glee. None of that sentiment showed when he spoke, though. 

"That's right," he said calmly. "Merlin got me out of that house and out of the Dark Lord's reach. He knew I didn't really wish to work for him, and he freed me."

"So you just abandoned your parents?" Potter deadpanned, watching him with sharp eyes. "That sounds unlike you."

Draco forced himself not to flinch at the words. 

"I worked a memory charm on his family, Voldemort and all of his followers," Merlin told them. "None of them remember Draco. It will last for the duration of the war, or until I lift it."

At that, Potter looked sideways at Granger, whose face had gone quite white. Draco didn't know what to make of that. 

"I wished it could have been different," Draco pushed on, refusing to let himself be deterred, "but my parents would have refused to accompany me, and I couldn't follow down the path they set for me any longer."

"Because you were afraid?" Potter frowned, scanning his face. "Or because you didn't believe in it anymore?"

Draco forced himself to hold his gaze and his face to remain defiant, to let no trace of shame leak through. 

"Both," he said, truthfully. A silence followed his words. He turned to Merlin and Arthur. "Tea?"

"Yes, please," Merlin sighed, grateful, pulling out a chair to sit as Draco got to his feet to set the kettle. Arthur sat next to him, and, after a moment of hesitation, so did Potter, much to Draco’s surprise. Granger followed shortly after. Weasley remained standing.

"I'm sorry, by the way," Potter said, quite abruptly, making Draco freeze. "For what happened last term. I had no idea what that spell did. If I'd known, I'd have never used it."

Draco didn't say anything, nor did he turn around. His heart was hammering against his ribcage, and he needed a moment to collect himself. 

He had not expected an  _ apology. _

"Well, I tried to use an Unforgivable on you," Draco forced himself to say. "I think we're even." When Potter didn't return anything, he asked: "How do you take your tea?"

Potter's voice was hesitant when he answered: "Milk and sugar."

He nodded, taking the kettle from the heat just before it started piping. It was surreal, standing here and preparing tea for Harry Potter in Merlin's kitchen. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate how much his life had changed in the last couple of weeks before asking Granger how she liked her tea.

"A little milk, no sugar, please," she told him timidly and he nodded, waving his wand to prepare it. 

"Weasley?" he asked, his tone neutral. 

"I'm not drinking anything  _ you  _ prepare!" he snapped. "For all we know, you might poison us!"

Draco forced himself not to react, though it stung. "Suit yourself," he shrugged, proceeding to prepare Merlin and Arthur's beverages before levitating the cups onto the table. He clung to his own cup like it was a shield charm, purposefully not looking at the drink-less Weasley who was hovering behind Potter and Granger. 

"Listen," Draco said, clearing his throat. "I know I haven't always been on my best behaviour around you, but I promise I'll try. Merlin treated me well, and I don't want to disrespect him by making a mess of things. So you have nothing to fear of me."

When he glanced sideways at Merlin, the older man was smiling at him with an open pride that Draco was not used to, not even from his mother. He felt himself flush and took a sip of his tea to partially hide his face behind it.

"Well, now that we established there won't be any murders tonight while we sleep," Arthur said briskly, pointedly glaring at Weasley, who had the grace to redden. "Maybe we can all relax a little."

"Right," Draco said, thinking that was doubtful. "So, what's the plan now?" He turned to Merlin. 

"Well, we'll help Harry destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxes," Merlin shrugged. 

"Right," Draco muttered, shuddering. "Those ominous pieces of his soul. I still haven't quite gotten over that part of the story." Potter chuckled at that, and Draco raised his eyebrows at him. "What?" he asked, a little defensively.

"Nothing," he smiled. "It's just… I still feel the same, sometimes."

Draco didn't answer, though he felt unsettled at Potter  _ commiserating  _ with him.

"Anyway," Potter continued, turning to Merlin. "We got Slytherin's locket from Umbridge a while ago." 

“ _ Umbridge?”  _ Draco repeated. “Salazar, what did you do? Break into the Ministry?”

“Actually, yes,” Potter answered, rather simply.

A moment of silence followed his words, and then, Merlin heaved a deep sigh and took another sip of his tea. 

“I leave you out of my sight for a couple of weeks,” he muttered. “Well, fine. You’ve got the Horcrux, doesn’t matter how you got it. Arthur, could you get Excalibur?”

“Excalibur?” Granger whispered as Arthur got to his feet to walk into the corridor, where he’d put his sword down earlier. “Surely you don’t mean -”

But then Arthur came back, sword in hand, and all she could do was stare at the legendary King Arthur, standing there in jeans and a plain, white muggle T-shirt carrying the fabled sword Excalibur. 

“This should take care of the Horcruxes,” Merlin said confidently. “It was forged from a dragon’s breath. The Great Old Dragon, the last of his kind - he was far more powerful than the dragons nowadays.”

“I’m sure Hagrid would have loved to meet him, then,” Potter muttered absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on his sword. 

Merlin smiled but did not comment. Instead, he reached out for the locket. “If I may?”

Both Granger and Potter turned to Weasley, who narrowed his eyes but at their silent urging pulled the chain hanging from around his neck off roughly, thrusting it at Merlin. Merlin wordlessly let the locket dangle from the chain, scanning it closely. Draco leaned in, taking in the intricate, ancient design and the snake forming the letter ‘S’ as a clear sign of a Slytherin heirloom. He could feel the dark magic emanating from it in waves. 

“So, this is actually real?” Draco muttered, fascinated despite himself. “It actually belonged to Slytherin?” 

“Yes,” Potter answered. “Voldemort was sort of obsessed with the idea of hunting down stuff that belonged to the founders to use as Horcruxes. Because Hogwarts is the only place he ever felt like home at. He got the locket, and a cup from Helga Hufflepuff, and we suspect something from Ravenclaw’s.”

“And this is the first one you found?” Draco checked. 

“Yes,” Potter nodded. “Well, apart from the diary that I destroyed in second year in the Chamber of Secrets, and the ring Dumbledore destroyed.”

“The  _ diary?!” _ Draco muttered, feeling sick. “Wasn’t my father involved in that?”

Potter looked at him pointedly, and Draco cursed. 

“Alright,” Merlin said, uncharacteristically cheerful, turning to Arthur. “Want to do the honour, Sire?”

“Me?” Arthur asked, frowning. “What do I do?”

“Well, the way I see it, we first need to get it to open,” Merlin frowned. “Harry, you speak Parseltongue, don’t you?”

“I do,” Harry frowned. 

“Then you tell it to open,” Merlin nodded. “And you, Arthur, stab whatever appears with Excalibur.”

“Okay,” Arthur nodded, raising his sword a little. “I can do that.”

“But be alert,” Merlin told him, quite serious now. “This piece of Voldemort’s soul will probably put up a fight. It might want to prey on your weaknesses. The good thing is you’ve never worn it before, so it probably won’t be able to get a good hold of you, but be warned, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, his shoulders tense and his jaw set as he got into position. “Alright. Do it.” 

Merlin looked at Potter, nodding at him, and Potter opened his mouth and emitted some eerie hissing sounds that threw Draco back to Duelling Club in second year. But before he could linger on the memory, the locket had jumped open, and the pearly ghost of a woman emerged from its depths.

Draco had never seen the woman before, but by the way Arthur froze and Merlin gasped, it was clear that they knew who she was. Draco saw Arthur lowering Excalibur just a fracture. 

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, quiet but decisive. “She’s not real. It’s not her.”

_ “You abandoned me, Arthur,”  _ the woman accused, her voice resounding and unnatural. Her gaze was cold and full of contempt.  _ “You were supposed to return to your wife. To your kingdom. Instead, you chose to die in the arms of your  _ servant _.” _

“Arthur,” Merlin said again, trying to get his attention. “It’s not Gwen.”

_ “I never wanted to be Queen. You left me alone with all these burdens, and now you return to be with  _ him _ -” _

Merlin was opening his mouth again but was kept from saying anything because Arthur was already moving. He had stepped forward and run Excalibur right through the chest of the woman’s appearance. 

There was a high pitched scream and white fog was filling the room and then, as it all receded, a shocked silence fell upon them. The locket lay on the kitchen table, snapped closed, intricate exterior cracked. The feel of dark magic Draco had been able to sense from it before was gone. 

“Well,” Merlin said, rather pragmatically. “That is that.” He turned to Arthur, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, a little more gently. 

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded. “It was a pretty poor imitation of Guinevere. She would have never said these things.”

Merlin smiled, squeezing his shoulder. Arthur returned the smile, though Draco noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Draco’s eyes wandered to Potter, to find the other boy already watching him. Draco fought the urge to look away, instead holding the gaze.

So, to put it in Merlin’s words, ‘that was that’. They were going to work together. 

Draco just hoped it wasn’t all going to blow up in his face in the end. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I know, I've been rather quiet here lately. I've been doing a lot of what you could call administrative work through home office, and it both tired me out too much to write much and took away the writing opportunities I usually have, like in the bus on the way to and from work. But the summer is over soon, meaning I'll go back to my usual (though for a while, horribly busy) schedule, and I expect I'll find opportunities to dedicate myself to this story a bit more then. 
> 
> For now, though, an appointment of mine got cancelled today, leaving me with an opening and a thirst to write this scene. So here we are :D 
> 
> This has been building up for a while, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :3

When Merlin had built his little cottage at the lakeside of Arthur’s resting place, he had built it with himself and Arthur in mind. Merlin had never been used to luxury, but he knew Arthur would have felt claustrophobic in quarters too small, so he built a house that was just large enough to feel spacy, but not too much so that Merlin would go mad in the centuries waiting for Arthur to return. 

He had not, though, predicted that they would be sharing their home with four moody teenagers. It made Merlin wish that he had planned in more living space, after all. 

At least they all had a bed, or something like it, anyway. Hermione was sleeping in Merlin’s room, and Harry and Ron had taken up Arthur’s. Arthur and Merlin, on the other hand, had relocated into the living room, crashing on the luxurious sofa. Arthur had thrown a royal fuss, at first, as he was bound to do, but then, Merlin had broadened the arms of the u-shape sofa with a wave of his hand, giving them more than enough space to lie comfortably on the opposing sides, and he had quickly quietened down. 

Despite Arthur’s eventually easy compliance, though, it had taken Merlin a long time to fall asleep that night. He'd been too aware of every movement Arthur had made across the room and the rhythm of his breathing. And then, when he'd been about to finally drift off, one of the kids - he thought it might have been Harry - had gone into the kitchen for a glass of water, and it had woken Merlin all over again. 

Merlin had only fallen asleep when the sky had begun to dawn, and he woke with a start to loud noises in the kitchen. Plates were being moved and oil sizzled in pans, making Merlin groan and burrow his face into his pillow. For the following night, he would have to cast some kind of noise dampening charm. This just wouldn’t do. 

He lifted his head again to look over at Arthur, surprised that he hadn’t yet risen to his usual form and complained, but found his side of the sofa empty. He frowned, and with a put-upon sigh, sat up and got to his feet. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now, anyway. 

In the kitchen, Hermione was making scrambled eggs and fried bacon, nervously chatting away with Harry as she worked, who indulged her as he restlessly glanced between Ron and Draco. Draco sat on the opposite side of the kitchen table, nose stuck in one of Merlin’s book, calmly drinking his tea. Merlin could tell that he was putting up a facade, but he was not going to call him out on it. As long as he wasn’t picking any fights, Merlin was happy with him. Ron, on the other hand, had his eyes fixed on Malfoy, glaring at him from his seat next to Harry. Merlin rolled his eyes. If this boy didn’t start behaving soon, he was going to turn him into a frog. 

“Morning,” Merlin greeted them, his voice still groggy, but it was enough to turn everyone’s attention to him. 

“Good morning, Merlin!” Hermione called. “Do you want breakfast?”

“That would be lovely,” Merlin nodded, a sincere smile spreading across his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had offered to make  _ him _ a meal. It must have been when Gaius was still alive. 

“I made you tea,” Draco announced without looking up, and sure enough, there was a steaming cup waiting for him under a stasis charm. Smiling, Merlin picked it up and took a sip.

“Thanks,” he muttered. “Have you seen Arthur?”

“Nope,” Harry frowned. “I thought he was still asleep, like you?”

“He’s outside,” Draco told him. “Saw him sneaking out before that lot even woke up. He’s sitting at the lakeside.”

Merlin cursed under his breath, putting down his cup again.

“He knows I hate when he does that,” Merlin grumbled. “Why can’t he just stay away from that lake?”

“It’s not like the lake is going to swallow him back up again,” Draco smiled, finally looking up from the book to send him a teasing smile, and Merlin knew it was Draco’s way of trying to calm him down. He appreciated it. Draco could be surprisingly thoughtful if he tried. 

It didn’t dislocate the feeling of dread in the pit of Merlin’s stomach, though. He just hated the idea of Arthur anywhere near that lake. He felt nauseous at the thought of Arthur out of his sight, really, but thinking of him sitting at that lake, without magical barriers of Merlin’s making there to protect him? It was a nightmare, really.

“I’ll be right back,” Merlin told then, leaving the kitchen to head for the front door. 

He did not have to look hard to find Arthur. He wondered if the other man had consciously taken the most direct route to the lake, in case Merlin panicked at his absence and came looking for him. The thought made Merlin feel a little better, though he was still slightly miffed.

“How often do I have to tell you?” he called once he was in hearing distance. “I hate it when you-”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur sighed. “The lake is evil, it might want me back.”

“Don’t joke about it!” Merlin hissed. “You know how long I waited to get you back! Do you know what it would mean if you’d suddenly -”

“Alright,” Arthur interrupted, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just needed some time alone, and the house is too packed.”

Merlin sighed, lowering himself onto the ground next to Arthur. 

“So, what’s wrong?” Merlin asked. “Is this about Gwen, and what happened yesterday?” When Arthur didn’t reply and only turned to stare out over the lake again Merlin continued: “You know it wasn’t really her, Arthur.”

“I do know that,” Arthur amended. “I told you, Gwen would have never said anything like that. She was far too kind.”

“She was,” Merlin agreed, with a smile. “Probably the kindest person I ever met.”

“I don’t know about that,” Arthur pursed his lips. “It might have been a tie, to be honest. Back in Camelot, I had this hopelessly loyal servant...” his lips twitched into a grin, and it made Merlin smile along with him.

“If you say George now, I’ll push you back into that lake,” Merlin quipped, making Arthur laugh. He shook his head, and his chuckles slowly ebbed away, leaving him more sombre.

“I know it wasn’t her,” Arthur said, eventually. “But that doesn’t mean  _ I  _ haven’t been thinking any of these things.”

Merlin frowned, staring at his profile. 

“You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about, Arthur,” Merlin told him, very gently. “You  _ died.  _ It’s not like you could  _ help it. _ ”

“It’s not that,” Arthur shook his head. “I mean, if course, that’s part of it, but I know I couldn’t have changed it if I tried. The problem is rather that…” Arthur frowned glancing at Merlin sideways before halting, biting his lip. 

“What?” Merlin asked, softly.

For a while, Arthur was silent, and Merlin figured he wasn’t going to answer. But then, he muttered: “I was  _ content _ , Merlin. When I died. Because you were there with me, holding me close, I… I didn’t even think of her. And I should have, shouldn’t I? She was my wife, and I loved her. I should have wanted her there in my last moments. But I didn’t. I just wanted you.” 

Merlin tried to find some way to reply to that, anything, but his mind was empty. He also wasn’t breathing. Arthur, though, didn’t seem to mind his lack of response, because it appeared that he wasn’t done yet.

“And now I’m back,” he pressed on, his voice rough. “And again, my first thought wasn’t with her. It was with you. I was relieved that you were there. I don’t think I could have done it without you, because who am I kidding, I’m  _ useless _ without you. I need you more than I ever realised. And none of that feels  _ wrong _ , Merlin, though I’m aware that it  _ should.  _ A thousand years might have passed, but to me, it’s been no more than a couple of weeks, really. Shouldn’t it feel like I’m cheating? Shouldn’t I miss her more? Shouldn’t the loss be crippling?” He gulped, closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t feel  _ happy  _ here with you. It’s not  _ right. _ ”

There was a long, heavy silence between them after Arthur had finished. It took Merlin a while to find his voice.

“Gwen and I kept in close contact after your death,” Merlin whispered. “I went back to the Citadel only once, though, to tell her how you died. Believe me, Arthur, she felt no grudge at all. She was glad that you weren’t alone, that you were with someone you… cared about. If anything, she would have been happy, knowing that you were content when you died.” Arthur didn’t say anything, but from the way he held himself, Merlin could tell that he was hanging onto every word Merlin said to him. “She asked me to come back to Camelot,” Merlin admitted. “Become Court Sorcerer. She wanted to give me the recognition she felt you would have given me in your lifetime had you known all the ways I was really serving you. But I refused. You know it was never about titles or recognition for me, but I told her about the prophecy, and that I rather wanted to stay close to the lake, in case you returned.”

“You’re such a fool,” Arthur muttered, his voice rough, before adding: “What did she say?”

“She smiled at me and told me that she’d always known that there was a bond between us that no one could touch,” Merlin told him, his voice breaking. “And that it was nice to know that, should the prophecy really come to pass, I’d always be there for you.” Merlin could see that there were tears in Arthur’s eyes now, though he was fighting hard to keep them in check. “She knew, Arthur,” Merlin assured him. “And she embraced it. She wanted you to be happy.”

“Did she ever -” Arthur began, taking a shaky breath and blinking against the onslaught of his own emotions. “Did she ever… find love again? After…”

“She did,” Merlin confirmed. “She married Sir Leon, about four years after you passed.”

“Oh,” Arthur breathed, nodding. “I’m glad.” And then, he was looking at Merlin, blue eyes swimming with tears and a millennium of unspoken emotions. “Merlin -”

Merlin didn’t know who moved first, but before he knew it, they were kissing, and Merlin had never died before, but he wondered if this was what it felt like. In his long life, he had worked so hard on compartmentalising his emotions, and his romantic love for Arthur he had put into a shelf very far in the back, not to be touched under any circumstances. It had been necessary for survival, both in the long years without him as well as ever since Arthur’s return. No use in torturing himself with things that could have never been.  _ Especially _ no use in revisiting those feelings now that he had returned, when all it would most likely do was push him away. But now, they came crashing down on him with such intensity that Merlin felt like he was drowning in them, choking, unable to breathe. His eyes were prickling, tears collecting behind closed eyelids as Arthur pulled him close, his palm firm and grounding on the back of Merlin’s neck. Merlin knew he was trembling from head to toe, and he clumsily clutched at the shirt Arthur had slept in, whimpering into the kiss. 

Arthur broke away for a moment to catch his gaze. One stray tear ran down his left cheek. It was only then that Merlin noted that Arthur was as much of a mess as he was. 

Wordlessly, they leaned in to resume their kiss, more gently now and with more intent. Arthur’s free arm went around Merlin’s waist, pulling him close. Merlin could feel the way Arthur trembled where he held him now that he paid attention. It made him reach out to gently cup Arthur’s stubbly cheek. Arthur gasped against Merlin’s mouth, ever so softly. 

Merlin’s head was spinning with the reality of the situation. This was _real_. He was kissing Arthur. After all this time of waiting, of wondering if he would spend eternity alone, he had Arthur here with him, wrapped around him,  _ loving him back.  _

The sobs tore out of him before Merlin could control them. Arthur froze in his movements, recoiling.

“Merlin?” he asked, unsure, but Merlin quickly shook his head, clinging to him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I just -”

Arthur seemed to get it, then. He did not prod, rather wrapped his arms around Merlin and held him close, pressing his lips against his temple as Merlin cried. 

It took a long while for Merlin to calm down enough to feel human again, and even longer for them to return to the house. When they finally did, the kitchen was deserted except for Draco, who had his feet propped up on an empty chair, nose still buried in the same book, though in a far later chapter. Two plates of food and two cups of tea were waiting for them under a stasis charm. 

“There you are,” Draco said, glancing at them. “The others are in the living room, pouring over Horcrux locations.” He scanned their faces. “Are you alright?”

“Sure,” Arthur nodded, smiling at him before sitting down and digging into his food. Merlin followed his lead, taking the chair next to him. Under the table, Arthur pressed their legs up together, and it made Merlin smile. 

“Okay,” Draco said, watching them with shrewd eyes. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

And before either of them could say anything, he had gotten up and left the kitchen, making Merlin wonder how obvious it was that something of importance had just passed between them. 

Arthur’s hand came to rest on Merlin’s knee, squeezing, and Merlin looked up to find his gaze on him. 

“From now on,” Arthur murmured, his voice quiet and soft, “it’s going to be you and me, okay? You’re never going to be alone again. It took us this long, but I’m not going to let go of you ever again, I promise.”

Merlin smiled at that, covering Arthur’s hand his with his.

“You’d better stick to that promise,” Merlin said. “Because I don’t think I’d survive another death of yours.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! Here I'm back with the next chapter, and with what happens when you leave Harry and Draco alone to plot. I hope you enjoy it :D

Draco was sitting in the kitchen, nursing his morning tea and enjoying the peace and quiet of being the first person awake in Merlin's now overflowing cottage, when he heard quiet footsteps from the corridor. He immediately tensed, weary of the arrival. He knew it wouldn't be Merlin or Arthur since everything was silent in the living room, and the steps were too heavy for Granger and too careful for Weasley. That left only one person, and Draco did  _ not  _ want to be stuck alone in a room with Potter, of all people. 

But sure enough, the Gryffindor poked his head through the open door only a moment later, shabby glasses on his nose and his hair hopelessly mussed from sleep. 

"Oh," he muttered, a little awkwardly, as green eyes fell onto Draco. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Draco said stiffly. "What are you doing up so early? Did the Weasel kick you out of bed?" 

"No," Potter frowned before he grimaced and admitted: "Actually, yes. His snores woke me." Draco snorted and hid his smirk behind his tea. "What are you doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep," Draco shrugged. He didn't want to discuss with Potter of all people that he was having nightmares, was seeing his parents being tortured over and over again when he slept. They may fight on the same side now, but that did not mean that Draco trusted him with his weaknesses. 

The way Potter was looking at Draco, though, indicated that he knew exactly what Draco wasn't saying. It made Draco feel on edge. 

"You want tea?" Draco asked, to break the silence. 

Potter shrugged, nodding. Draco waved his wand to make the kettle prepare a cup, and cast another spell to add milk and sugar. He was getting fairly good at these.

"Have you seen an old, blank parchment lying around, by any chance?" Potter asked him as he caught the cup from the air. "I forgot it downstairs yesterday."

"No," Draco said slowly. "But I assure you Merlin has enough new parchment for us to write on. He isn't exactly stingy."

"It's not just an old parchment," Potter returned, giving him an impatient look. "It's enchanted. It's actually a map."

"Oh," Draco frowns, trying and failing not to feel stupid. "No, haven't seen it. Maybe you left it in the living room where the three of you had your secret huddle in the afternoon. But I wouldn't go in there now. I'm pretty sure Merlin and Arthur shagged up last night."

Potter's eyes bulged a little at those words, but he refrained from commenting on their host's love life. What he said instead was: "It wasn't a secret huddle. We were trying to figure out where to go from here regarding the Horcrux hunt."

"Oh," Draco said, taking another sip of his tea. "Got anywhere?"

"Well, not really," Potter shrugged. "We've been going in circles for weeks."

"Why don't you bounce some ideas off me," Draco suggested. "Since we're apparently all in the same boat now." Potter regarded him for a long moment, for so long, in fact, that Draco felt the implied rejection from the mere length of the silence. "Fine," he snapped, glaring. "Don't, then. Whatever."

There was another beat of tensed silence in which Draco contemplated going back to his room before Potter surprised him by speaking up.

"Voldemort likes to hide his Horcruxes either in places that signify something of personal value to him - he hid one in a cave where he once controlled children from his orphanage with magic, something he considered as a great personal victory of sorts, a momentous event - or in renowned institutions and monuments which he considers worth the immense honour of housing a piece of his soul."

"That -" Draco frowned, "What does that mean, Potter?"

"I think one of the Horcruxes might be hidden at Hogwarts," Potter said, catching his eyes. "He feels a connection to Hogwarts. Tom Riddle grew up an orphan and Hogwarts was the first place he felt like he belonged. Not only that, it's an ancient, respected institution of magic. A huge castle embedded with more spells and enchantments than any other building in wizarding Britain. You can see the appeal it would have to him."

"I can," Draco admitted, gnawing at his lip. 

"But we can hardly walk into Hogwarts now that Snape is Headmaster, as Hermione keeps reminding me," Potter rolled his eyes. 

" _ You  _ can't," Draco agreed. "Undesirable Number One, Two and Three or whatever they call you these days. For you, it's impossible."

"Not only for us," Potter deadpanned. "You deserted. They'd kill you on sight."

"Potter," Draco clicked his tongue impatiently. " _ No one remembers I exist." _

Potter frowned at him. Then his eyes widened. 

"But - who exactly will they think you are if you're caught?"

"I'm not sure," Draco admitted. "For all they know, I'm name and family-less."

"That's not much better, then," Potter muttered. "You could as well be Muggleborn."

"Maybe," Draco conceded. "But they're not going to question my blood status if I'm already in the school and keep my head down, Potter."

Potter just stared at him. "Getting you in would be impossible," he pointed out. "Security will be tight as ever."

"You forget we have the most powerful wizard to ever walk the earth on our side," Draco reminded him. "There's no ward Merlin  _ can't  _ break."

Potter cursed, but there was a light in his eyes now, and Draco knew he had him at his Gryffindor recklessness. 

"It would be dangerous, Malfoy," he hissed. "Why would you risk your neck for us?!"

"It's not for  _ you!" _ Draco snapped. "It's to get rid of this maniac in my house so I can get my life back, you moron! As much as I like Merlin, you think I enjoy the fact that my parents don't remember my name? My existence? I want this war over and done with, and if breaking into Hogwarts and tracking down elusive pieces of the Dark Lord's soul makes that happen, I'll do that!"

Potter was silent for a long moment, just watching him. Then he nodded. 

"All right. If you're sure."

"Of course I'm sure!" Draco growled. 

"It's going to be a cluster-fuck to plan," Potter said, rather drily. "Worse than the Ministry-infiltration. Hermione's going to have a fit."

"Pretty sure she'll survive, considering  _ I'll  _ be the one putting myself in danger," Draco rolled his eyes. 

Potter's lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile, but before Draco could begin to analyse  _ that  _ all too closely, footsteps sounded from the living room and a dishevelled, drowsy yet seemingly content-with-the-world Merlin appeared in the kitchen. He blinked at them, brows furrowing for a moment. 

"The two of you in the same room and my house hasn't exploded yet," he rasped. "Miracles  _ do _ happen."

Draco rolled his eyes as Merlin pulled out a chair and took the seat next to Draco. 

"Actually," Potter said, throwing a look at Draco, "we need to talk to you. We had an idea."

"That sounds ominous," Merlin replied, expression unnecessarily appalled. Or maybe it was necessary, Draco reflected, as Potter's next words proved him quite right in his reserve.

"Yeah. So. We're thinking about breaking into Hogwarts," Potter told him, rather bluntly. 

Merlin stared. "I need tea," he said, sounding pained, and Draco dutifully lifted his wand to prepare it. "I swear, I leave you alone for five minutes…"

"It's a good idea," Draco argued, though his tone was a little more gentle than Potter's had been. "Potter thinks there's a Horcrux hidden in the school, and we all know no one remembers me. I can easily slip in and out undetected, with a little help from you. Don't tell me you can't ease down the school's wards for us because I won't believe you."

"Of course I can," Merlin snorted, without even the pretence of humility. "But do you even know  _ what  _ the Horcrux is, or where it's hidden?"

"Well…" Potter said, looking uncomfortable. "We know it's probably something that belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, or Helga Hufflepuff's cup."

"That's not much to go by!" Merlin rolled his eyes. "Have you forgotten how huge that castle is? If someone had hidden something in the Citadel back in Camelot, it might have taken me  _ days _ to find it without magic, and that's  _ without  _ all the enchantments placed on Hogwarts to keep certain areas hidden, secret. Even if I get Draco into the castle and he stays undetected, the likelihood of him finding what we are looking for is -"

"That doesn't mean we can give up," Draco interrupted him. "We have to start somewhere, and if Potter says this is our best shot, we might as well give it a go."

Merlin frowned at him, looking less than pleased. 

"Fine," he muttered. "But you're not going alone. I'm going with you."

Draco stared at him. "No offence, Merlin, but I don't think you'll pass for a student," he pointed out. 

Merlin snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'm over a thousand years old, Draco," he deadpanned, his voice indicating that he might as well be talking to a toddler. "Do you really think I've never de-aged before? Or aged, for that matter. I can alter my appearance at will and in a matter of minutes. I can look your age if I want to."

"Oh," Draco said, feeling both chastened and strangely comforted by Merlin's words. The prospect of going out there with Merlin sounded much better than facing a hostile territory like Hogwarts on his own. If anything happened, Merlin could always get them out.

"Yeah," Merlin nodded. "Sorry to disappoint. I know you seem dead-set on jumping head-first into danger alone, but -"

"That's quite all right," Draco said quickly. "I'd like the company."

"You don't have a choice," Merlin shrugged, taking a gulp of tea. "The irony is, I always wanted to visit Hogwarts. But that's not how I imagined it."

"After the war, maybe we can give you a real tour," Draco said consolingly, and he was rewarded by a half-smile from Merlin. 

"Merlin?"

Arthur's muffled voice came from the living room, interrupting their conversation, and then there was a painful sounding crash, clumsy footsteps, the Once and Future King appeared in the doorway, shirtless, eyes only half-open, hair sticking into all directions and a love bite on his neck. "What are you doing? Come back to bed!" he complained.

"My god, Arthur, put on some clothes, there are children in the room!" Merlin groaned. "Or have you still not learned how to dress yourself?!"

"They're not children, they're seventeen," Arthur rolled his eyes, entering the room, apparently resigned to the fact that there would be no morning sex. "We met around that age."

"And we were children back then," Merlin rolled his eyes. 

Arthur grumbled, and Draco chose to silently prepare him a cuppa. He accepted the tea with unspoken gratitude. 

"So, what are you all doing up already," Arthur asked, looking blearily into the round, "when you have perfectly good beds to sleep in?"

"We were just talking about breaking into a magic school to find another Horcrux," Merlin filled him in. 

"Oh," Arthur muttered, holding in to consider this. "That actually sounds like fun. When do we leave?"

"You're not coming along," Merlin told him, his expression apologetic. "You don't have magic, Arthur. You wouldn't even be able to  _ see _ the building, much less get in. There's only so much my powers can do, you know."

Arthur looked affronted at his words. "So you're just going to leave me here while you all go?" he demanded angrily.

"No," Merlin replied calmly. "You will babysit Harry, Hermione and Ron while Draco and I go."

"Hey!" Potter complained, though he did look rather amused. "We don't need babysitting, thank you very much!"

"Why are they not going?" Arthur asked, ignoring him.

"Because they're too noticeable," Merlin explained. "They're on top of the Ministry's wanted list. No one knows Draco and me, though."

"Okay," Arthur nodded, still seeming uncomfortable with the thought of letting Merlin go without him but apparently seeing the merits of the plan already. Draco was reminded, quite suddenly, that he used to be a monarch. He had probably made a lot of strategic decisions in his life that he emotionally disagreed with but rationally knew were necessary. "What can we do while you're gone?"

"Nothing, probably," Merlin grimaced, reaching out to squeeze Arthur's arm. "But you can help in the planning. We'll need to do lots of that before we brave the actual thing."

"Fine," Arthur sighed, covering Merlin's hand with his free one and giving it a squeeze. 

Draco felt a little tug of longing, watching their interactions. It had been obvious how much Arthur meant to Merlin even before they had resurrected him, and from the moment he had stepped out of that lake, it had been a countdown towards them confronting these century-old feelings for each other. And he was happy for them, he really was. Merlin and Arthur were good people, and after everything they'd been through, they deserved all the happiness they could get. 

As the heir of the Malfoy family, though, Draco's father had always made one thing perfectly clear to Draco: His expectations of him. And amongst those, right at the top, was for Draco to marry the daughter of a respectable Pureblood family and create his own heir. 

"Sodomite relationships" were not tolerated and would be cause for disinheritance and disassociation. No matter Draco's own preferences. 

And Draco knew, with a clarity beyond doubt, that he didn't like girls. First, he'd blamed himself, had thought it his fault, an abnormality, a  _ perversion  _ of his. He'd even tried dating Pansy for a while and it had been fine, more or less, until the Dark Lord had made demands of him and all had gone to hell.

But he knew it had been a lie and would always be a lie, and seeing the way Arthur and Merlin touched and looked at each other, he wished he was free to love like them. 

"I'm going to make us some breakfast," Merlin sighed, breaking Draco out of his thoughts by getting to his feet. "Might as well have some food ready when we break the news to Ron and Hermione. Hermione will fret and Ron will be suspicious of Draco."

That left a sour taste in Draco's mouth and he drowned the last of his tea.

"I'll talk some sense into him," Potter said, much to Draco's surprise. "We're all on the same  team now. Time we trust each other."

And if  _ those _ weren't unsettling words from Potter's mouth, he didn't know what were.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter! Life keeps being insane for me, and it's hard to keep up a private life next to work. But I finally found a moment to proof-read and post this after I finished this yesterday on the bus. I hope you'll enjoy Draco and Merlin's quest to Hogwarts and our little surprise guest :D

"Okay," Draco grinned, biting down  _ hard  _ on an actual, full-blown laugh. "So that's you at seventeen."

"Not a word," Merlin glowered, his expression dark as he elbowed Arthur, who snorted into his tea.

"I didn't say anything," Draco chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. 

He didn't need to, though. The change in Merlin was obvious. Where he'd filled out considerably over the years, he was now scrawnier than Potter. No, scratch that - he was scrawnier than Potter  _ two years ago _ .

"Didn't you feed your servants properly at that castle of yours?" he asked Arthur before he could help himself, making Arthur choke on his tea and Merlin gawk in indignation. 

"He came to me like that!" Arthur called. "I had nothing to do with it! It was all Ealdor malnutrition!" 

"You didn't feed me anyway, Gaius fed me," Merlin reminded him with an edge to his voice. "Now if you're quite done discussing my lack of weight throughout adolescence -" he turned away from them pointedly to face Potter, Granger and Weasley, who'd watched their exchange in silent amusement (at least on Potter's side - he figured it might be more of a bored impassivity on Weasley's), "How do I look? Do I pass for a sixth or seventh year Hufflepuff?" 

Granger got up, her business face on, and fussed with his uniform. It was one that had belonged to Weasley, who was the only one even remotely of Merlin's height, Draco excluded. It had been heavily altered to fit him snugly and changed to Hufflepuff colours. Draco himself was wearing one of his old uniforms, but changed to Ravenclaw design. They had figured, since they were looking for either Hufflepuff's cup or some elusive heirloom of Ravenclaw's, it would be smartest to assume identities of students from both houses. Even if they had to temporarily split up to get into the common rooms, it would be easier than trying it with Slytherin or Gryffindor robes. 

"You'll do," Hermione said decisively. "As long as nobody looks at you for too long and tries to place you amongst friend groups, that is."

"I can take care of myself," Merlin shrugged. "And so can Draco. A well-placed confundus charm should do the trick."

"Right," Draco nodded, glancing at the clock. "Let's get going, then. People are bound to come down for breakfast soon."

"True," Merlin nodded, turning back to Arthur, who was already getting to his feet, a pinched, decidedly unhappy look on his face. 

It was weird, seeing the two of them with such obvious age difference, but when their eyes met, Merlin's expression belied his true age and emotions, making them slightly more even. 

"I know you hate this," Merlin sighed. "But you've got nothing to worry about. We'll be fine."

"I know," Arthur muttered, though he still looked sour. He reached out to close his fingers around Merlin's wrist for a moment. "Be safe."

"I promise," Merlin smiled. They looked at each other for another long moment before Arthur let go.

Merlin turned to Draco, holding out his arm. Draco slung his own through it, holding on tight, like Merlin had instructed him to. 'It might be a bumpy ride,' he had warned him. 

"Alright," Merlin muttered. "Give me a second to crack the wards enough to let us in." 

He closed his eyes and bit his lip. The room waited in tense silence as Merlin's mind travelled across the country all the way to Scotland. When Merlin finally opened his eyes again, they were burning golden. 

"They're down," he announced.

"Off we go," Draco nodded, grasping onto Merlin's arm a little tighter.

"Malfoy!" Potter called suddenly, making him start. Draco looked over his shoulder to stare at Potter, confused. 

Potter seemed startled as well, or maybe conflicted. He struggled visibly with his words before he brought out, very hesitantly: "Watch out for yourself. And send a message if you need us."

"I will," Draco blinked, flabbergasted.

When he turned back to Merlin, there was a knowing smile on his face. 

"Ready?" he asked, looking at him with still golden eyes. 

"Ready," Draco nodded, and then they were off.

The Apparition through the Hogwarts wards was indeed bumpier than what Draco was used to, and he had to hold onto Merlin's arm with all his might to not lose grip. When they had solid ground underneath their feet again, though, it was in the thankfully abandoned second-floor corridor near the Transfigurations classroom, a little off from where Draco had instructed him to aim for but they still remained undetected. Draco took a shaky breath before letting go of Merlin's arm as soon as the world had stopped spinning. 

"Okay," he muttered. "What first?"

Merlin was already looking over his shoulder, checking that they were really alone before pulling out the old, battered parchment Potter had lent them for their trip. He held it out to Draco, who drew his wand to tip it onto the blank surface of the parchment, as instructed.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," he muttered, thinking how ironic it was that he actually was up to  _ good _ , this time around, in the grand scheme of things.

At Draco's word, the blank parchment transformed into the map they needed, showing every passageway of the school as well as each of its inhabitants. Draco peered at their surroundings, ensuring that they were indeed alone for the moment. 

"Should we check out Hufflepuff first?" Merlin asked, his eyebrows screwed up in contemplation. "Black said their quarters are supposed to be near the kitchens, right?"

'Black' was the codename they had thought up for Potter. They had figured it would be unwise to say his name repeatedly in the middle of Hogwarts. Granger was 'Brown', Weasley 'Red' and Arthur 'Gold'.

"Right," Draco nodded. He pointed to the right area on the map. "We need to go here, then. Follow me."

Being back at Hogwarts was more than just a little strange. The last time he had walked these halls, he had been working for the Dark Lord. His Dark Mark seemed to tingle just at the memory of it, though Merlin had long severed its connection to its caster with a spell. 

Now, he was walking the corridors of his school in search of a way to destroy his former Lord. It felt almost elating.

They soon reached the entrance hall and Draco was about to direct Merlin towards the kitchens when the sound of a soft voice calling out to them made him freeze in his tracks. 

"Draco? Draco Malfoy?"

Draco closed his eyes, his heart stopping, and then threatening to beat out of his chest with the way it picked up. 

_ No.  _ This couldn't be  _ happening.  _ No one was supposed to  _ remember  _ him! Merlin had  _ promised! _

Ever so slowly, he took a shuddering breath and forced himself to open his eyes. He looked over to Merlin for instruction, but the other wizard had already turned towards the girl who had called for them, an expression of complete puzzlement on his face. 

Draco then proceeded to glance at the girl standing near the entrance doors, as if she had just come in from outside. Sure enough, her hair looked windswept, though her face was pleasantly blank and curious. 

Draco had always felt strangely twitchy about Luna Lovegood. She had never been unpleasant towards him, though by all means he had been towards  _ her _ , and she always seemed to be able to look through people and come up with the most ridiculous conclusions. 

Though in this case, her conclusion was also eerily accurate, and fuck Draco if he knew what that said about everything else she sprouted on a daily basis. 

"What are you doing here?" Lovegood asked, breaking the silence. "I thought you weren't coming to school anymore?"

"How can she remember me?" he hissed, glancing at Merlin. "I thought you took care of that!"

"I did," Merlin frowned. "This shouldn't have happened." He was still staring at Lovegood like she was the most peculiar herb he had ever come across rather than an actual threat to Draco's very existence. "What's your name?"

"Luna Lovegood," Lovegood smiled softly, stepping closer to them to hold out her hand. "What's yours? I haven't seen you around school before. Did Draco bring you?"

"Merlin's pa- I mean, _for Salazar's sake_ , keep your voice down!" Draco groaned, looking around to make sure they were still alone. 

The corners of Merlin's mouth twitched into a smile but he took Lovegood's hand to return the handshake, his expression calculating. 

"My name is Merlin," he said simply. 

"Oh," Lovegood said, as if everything made sense now. "My father always told me that there were rumours of Emrys still being alive and in hiding, waiting to resurrect the Once and Future King and return Albion to its former glory. So, is that what you're doing now? Is Draco helping you? That would be worth skipping school for."

Draco gaped, unable to believe what he was listening to. Merlin was biting his lip, though Draco could clearly see the grin trying to split his face. He was obviously enjoying this plot twist. 

"Something like that," Merlin confirmed politely. "Arthur is back, and we're working on bringing down Voldemort. Draco is helping."

"That's great!" Lovegood smiled at Draco, so brightly that he felt himself flush. "I knew you weren't as bad as everyone kept saying! Well, until they stopped mentioning you altogether, that is."

"Yes," Merlin blinked. "That would have been my memory charm. Why didn't it work on you?"

"Oh, probably the properties of the dirigible plums," Lovegood shrugged, quite unconcerned as she pointed to the radishes that dangled from her ears. "They protect my mind from being altered."

Draco felt the urgent wish to jump into the lake and drown himself.

"I have to remember that," Merlin nodded. "Will you do us a favour and keep the fact that you met us today a secret? If anyone knows of Draco's existence…"

"Of course," Lovegood agreed easily. "I won't tell."

"Thanks ever so much, Luna," Merlin smiled. "Also, I wonder if you could help us with something, seeing that you're a Ravenclaw student."

"Sure," she replied, the dreamy note back in her voice. "What do you need, Emrys?"

"We're looking for something that might have belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw," Merlin explained. "Have you ever heard of an object like that being hidden somewhere within the castle?"

"Well, there's Ravenclaw's lost diadem," Lovegood said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but isn't the point of the _that_  that it's, you know,  _ lost?" _ Draco pointed out impatiently. "No living person has ever seen it."

"Yes," Lovegood nodded, unconcerned. "So you obviously have to ask someone who's already dead." She smiled at them. "Follow me." And then she turned, leading the way up the stairs Merlin and Draco had just come from. 

Draco looked at Merlin warily. Merlin, though, was grinning. 

"I like her," he said, with conviction. 

"You would," Draco groaned, trailing after the other two of them in defeat.

Lovegood let them up staircase after staircase, through corridor after corridor until even Draco wasn't sure where they were going, all without glancing at the map Draco had still pocketed. Maybe she had a magical compass of her own tucked away somewhere. At this point, Draco wouldn't be surprised. When she finally stopped, they were in some corridor near Trelawney's Divination classroom. She turned towards them with a soft, hazy smile on her face.

"This is how far I go," Lovegood told them in her melodic voice. "She's pretty shy and likely to scare if too many people go making demands of her."

"Excuse me, but  _ who exactly  _ are we supposed to meet?" Draco enquired, an edge to his voice. 

"The Grey Lady, obviously" Luna smiled. "Though she prefers her given name, Helena Ravenclaw."

Draco's jaw dropped.  _ Merlin's soggy pants. _

"That makes sense," Merlin smiled back, seeming entirely unperturbed by this turn of events. Draco considered strangling him but he was pretty sure he would turn to ash if he just raised his hand against him. "Thank you so much, Luna."

"You're very welcome, Emrys," she beamed. "Good luck!"

"Thank you!" he said, turning to Draco. "Let's go!" 

And so Draco found himself face to face with the ghost of Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter while Merlin pleaded her for information about the diadem. To say she was as helpful as Lovegood, though, would have been a gross exaggeration. At first, she was dead-set on not speaking to them at all, only staying when Merlin revealed his true identity to her. Then, she mistrusted him because apparently, he held  _ too much power _ for her taste.

"Why would the legendary Merlin seek my mother's diadem?" she repeated, eyeing him shrewdly. "You  _ are _ magic. You shouldn't need it."

"I don't  _ need _ it," Merlin explained, with the patience of a saint, in Draco's opinion. "I need to find it as a means to rid the world of Lord Voldemort."

She blinked at him, frowning. "You can say his name without being detected," she muttered. "Your powers are indeed strong."

Merlin held in at that, considering her words for a moment. "Is there a ban on the name?" he asked. 

"Yes," she confirmed. "Everyone who speaks the name is vulnerable to detection."

"Well," Merlin sighed, looking at Draco. "At least we know the wards around my cottage are foolproof, then, not to mention my personal protections, or we'd have been long fucked." He turned back to Helena, a renewed purpose in his expression. "Please. I know that great power in the wrong hands is a danger to the whole world, but this is exactly why Voldemort needs to be stopped. He is upsetting the natural balance of all things. I need to act, and for that, I need the diadem."

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression shrewd, calculating.

"Will you try to use it against him?" she asked. "Or do you want to destroy it?"

Draco tensed, sensing danger and willing Merlin to lie. Merlin, of course, didn't listen to him. 

"If the diadem is involved in the way we think it is, it was infected with dark magic and needs to be destroyed," Merlin explained in a heavy voice. "I'm sorry."

Helena didn't speak for a long time and Draco was sure she would turn her back on them any moment. But then, to his complete surprise, she nodded. 

"It's here, in the castle," she divulged, her voice very soft. "In the place where everything is hidden. If you have to ask, you will never know. If you know, you only need ask."

And  _ that _ , Draco understood immediately, though Merlin didn't. 

"What?" Merlin blinked, confused. "I don't -"

"I do," Draco interrupted, fingers closing around Merlin's elbow. "Thank you," he said, to Helena, before pulling at Merlin's arm to make him retreat. 

Merlin hastily thanked the Ravenclaw ghost in turn before following Draco back down the corridor they had come from. Helena just looked after them, expression clouded.

"Draco!" Merlin hissed. "Where are we going?"

"The Room of Requirement," Draco grinned. "I spent half my sixth year in there, and I even distinctly remember something like a diadem. I just never made the connection till she said the words."

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again when they spotted Lovegood waiting for them around the corner. 

"Did she tell you?" she asked, her voice holding an air of light curiosity, as if she was enquiring about someone's Potion's mark. 

"She did," Merlin smiled at her. "Thank you so much, Luna. You were a great help."

"It's been a pleasure," she smiled. "Daddy and I have always considered ourselves loyal subjects of Albion under the Once and Future King's reign should he ever return. Please tell your King that."

"I will," Merlin smiled, and Draco noted that he looked genuinely happy at her words. "He'll be touched."

Draco took a deep breath and turned to Lovegood, bracing himself to address her. "Do you want me to deliver a message to Potter, Weasley or Granger?" he asked calmly. 

Lovegood looked surprised now, and Draco felt almost a little smug at that fact.

"That would be lovely," she answered, her face breaking out into a blinding smile. "I didn't realise they were working with you."

"They are," Merlin grinned. "Though they couldn't come today, for obvious reasons."

"I'm so glad they are safe," Lovegood said. "Please tell them that we are all safe, too. Things at Hogwarts are a little difficult, with Snape and the Carrows, but Neville, Ginny and I are doing the best to keep up the DA's mission and stand up to them. We think it gives people hope. So tell them to keep doing what they're doing while we're fighting on our own front."

Draco blinked at her, the unfamiliar feeling of concern creeping upon him. "Are you sure you should be doing this?" Draco checked. "It sounds dangerous."

"We'll be fine," Lovegood shrugged. "No need to worry about us."

Draco frowned but nodded. "Okay then," he said, glancing at Merlin, who was smiling at him in a strange way. "We should probably leave."

"We should," Merlin agreed. "Thank you, Luna. Take care."

"You too," she waved. "Good luck on your quest!" 

"Thanks!" Merlin called over his shoulder, and then, they were backing around a corner and out of sight.

For a moment,  there was silence between them as Draco navigated them through the castle, but he could feel Merlin's eyes on him.

"What?" he asked, a little irritably.

"That was kind of you," Merlin noted, and he sounded far too pleased for Draco's liking.

"Shut up," Draco snapped, but it sounded half-hearted at best.

They didn't speak until they reached the tapestry showing Barnaby the Barmy's attempt at teaching trolls to dance ballet. He signalled for Merlin to wait and paced three times up and down in front of the wall opposite from it, imagining the room he had spent months in fixing that damned Vanishing Cabinet with increasing desperation over the past year. When he opened his eyes, the door to the room had appeared and Merlin was looking at it with delighted interest. 

"I would have enjoyed studying here," he smiled. "So much more interesting than Camelot."

Draco snorted and pushed the door open, entering the room. It was in as much of a disorganised chaos as he'd left it, but he navigated the rows of forgotten possessions easily, quickly getting to where he wanted to go. He quickly spotted the old bust with the ugly wig and the ancient diadem perching upon it. Coming to an abrupt halt, he glanced at Merlin and pointed at it.

Merlin stared at it for a long moment, then nodded. "This is it," he muttered. "This is the Horcrux he hid here." 

"Great," Draco muttered, sighing in relief. "Then let's get the fuck out of here."

Merlin nodded grimly, lifting his hand. His eyes glowed golden and the Horcrux lifted towards them until Merlin could grasp it. Then, he held out his elbow to Draco. 

"Ready?"

Draco nodded, clinging to Merlin and preparing for the jump.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm sorry for the long silence. My schedule has been horrific in September and I had absolutely no energy to write on this story. It's only recently that this energy came back, and the outturn is this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it :D

Harry was glancing at the clock, wringing his fingers. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. Merlin and Malfoy hadn't been gone for much more than an hour, but it felt like an eternity. He kept imagining the trouble they could be running into at the castle and agonising over the fact that  _ he  _ should have gone, this was  _ his  _ task, not theirs, he would never forgive himself if…

"Harry," Arthur growled, sharp blue eyes trained on him in a glare. "If you don't sit down  _ right now _ I'll find a way to put you in the stocks, and if I have to build them myself."

Harry grimaced and took a seat next to Hermione on the sofa, who was watching him closely. Ron was frowning at him from the armchair. Harry shrugged awkwardly. 

"They'll be fine," Arthur muttered. "I like this as little as you, but Merlin is competent. He'll get them out of there alive." Arthur's jaw was set tight, though, belying his tension. "You wouldn't believe the tight spots Merlin got us out of back in Camelot," he continued, probably as much for his own benefit as for theirs. "And I'm not only talking Morgana here. I'm talking bandits and sure death in more than one case. I always used to wonder how a mere servant could be so resilient. I should have known he had magic all along."

Hermione's face did a funny thing then, as if she thought the same thing, and Harry had to bite down on a smile. Ron, though, had alert eyes trained on him now, and he was biting his lip before he burst out: "What was it like? Camelot?"

Arthur blinked, obviously not having expected the question. "Well…" he muttered, frowning. "It was very different from your world, from what Merlin told me. No running water, for one. I appreciate that part." He flashed them a smile. "Though I think Merlin appreciates it more, since he usually had to haul the buckets up to my chambers whenever I wanted a bath." Ron let out a gurgling laugh and Hermione rolled her eyes, seeming indignant. "Other than that… I guess it was home?" he sighed, looking out through the window and across the lake. "It was my kingdom and I loved it. I would have died for it. I did," he remembered, his voice soft now. He shook his head as if to dislocate the thought. 

"What happened to it?" Hermione asked curiously. 

"Camelot?" Arthur frowned. "Not sure, actually. I know Guinevere took over the throne but I don't know what became of it after…"

They fell into a loaded silence, which Ron broke with an eager: "You and Merlin must have had lots of adventures, back in your time."

_ That _ made Arthur smile and he leaned almost imperceptibly closer to Ron. "You have no idea…" he grinned before he launched into a story about a solo quest of his throughout which Merlin somehow ended up appearing and saving him from Wyverns, which were apparently by now extinct, distant cousins of dragons ("Serves them right," Arthur muttered, and Hermione looked scandalised). He then launched into another story, and another, and Harry noticed that, while they all started out painting him as the hero, they eventually all changed into pointing out how loyal and fearless Merlin had been. It made him smile, though it was not enough to keep him from glancing at the clock and checking exactly how long Merlin and Malfoy had been gone. 

When they finally reappeared, in the middle of Arthur's story about breaking a spell his wife Guinevere had been put under, Harry jumped to his feet, eyes wide. Both of them looked unharmed, much to his relief, though Malfoy seemed a little ruffled by the Apparition, and Merlin was holding what appeared to be a tiara in his hands. 

"You found it?" Harry muttered, aghast.

"We did," Merlin confirmed, voice grim as he deposited the thing on the couch table. Arthur stood and clasped his fingers around his wrist, as if to reassure himself that he was really back, and it made Merlin smile. 

"Your friend Lovegood helped," Malfoy noted, sounding tired as he walked over to the seat Harry had just abandoned, sinking down with a sigh. 

"Luna?" Hermione asked, shocked. "How - ?"

"It seems like she is the one curious exception to my memory charm," Merlin said, sounding remarkably unconcerned for a statement of such consequence, Harry thought. 

"You mean she remembered him?" Harry asked, an edge to his voice as he glanced at Malfoy. "How is that possible?! Does anyone else remember?"

"Aww, Potter," Malfoy smiled tiredly. "If I didn't know better I'd say you cared."

"Of course I care!" Harry snapped. "You really think I want you dead?!"

Malfoy fell silent, seeming taken aback. It irked Harry, so he turned away from him, glancing at Merlin.

"It's only Luna who escaped my magic, as far as I know," Merlin said softly. "She insinuated it might be down to some jewellery she was wearing."

"Sounds like her," Ron muttered, smirking.

"She was quite a delightful young woman," Merlin remarked, smiling up at Arthur. "She told me that she and her father consider herself your loyal subjects."

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"Yes, well, enough of that," Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Are we going to get Excalibur and destroy that Horcrux or what?"

"We might as well," Arthur shrugged, leaving the room to retrieve his sword. Merlin's eyes landed on Malfoy, though, and he looked as if he was considering the secrets of the universe. 

"What?" Harry asked, watching him.

"I think Draco should be the one to do it this time," he said, quite unexpectedly, making everyone but Harry freeze. 

"What?" Malfoy gasped, sounding like a fish on land.  _ "Why?!"  _

"Because you were instrumental in retrieving it," Merlin shrugged, smiling. "And you happen to be wearing the Ravenclaw robes."

"That's not - why would that even -"

"I think Merlin is right," Harry agreed, fixing him with a determined look. "It should be you."

Malfoy gaped at him. 

"Not  _ you _ , too, Potter," he muttered. "Out of all people, I'd have expected you to protest."

"Oh?" Harry asked, eyes hard now. "I think you've more than proven your loyalty today. Time to see this through to the end."

Malfoy blinked and after a moment of stunned silence, he nodded. He got to his feet slowly, carefully not glancing at Hermione and Ron, who had grown very silent. Arthur was waiting for him, handing him Excalibur with an encouraging smile. Malfoy stared at it, as if quite unsure what to do with it. Harry stepped up next to him, indicating the Horcrux on the table. 

"Same procedure as last time," Harry said. "I'll speak to it, you kill whatever appears."

"Is that how it works here?" Hermione asked tentatively. "The locket was something that had to open first, but a diadem… Maybe Malfoy can just go for it?"

Harry frowned, considering it. "I doubt it will be that easy," he muttered. 

"We can always try and see what happens," Ron shrugged. "Worst case scenario, nothing happens, right?"

Malfoy glanced at Harry, seeming to look to him for instructions. He checked with Merlin and Arthur but they were no help; Arthur was glaring at the Horcrux as if he could destroy it through his mere gaze and royal authority, and Merlin was biting his lip, clearly fretting. Finally, Harry shrugged. 

"Fine," he said. "Give it a go."

Malfoy hesitated before grasping the sword tighter and taking a deep breath. 

"Not like that," Arthur interrupted, voice strained. "Hold it properly. Wait -"

He moved forward to adjust Malfoy's grip to his satisfaction. When he stepped back, he looked him over critically and nodded.

Malfoy's knuckles  were white - whiter than usual - around the grip of the sword, and his jaw was clenched tightly as he stepped forward to the couch table where the Horcrux was perched. He took a shaky breath and in one quick movement swung the sword towards the diadem, only to be rebuffed by something rising out of it.

Harry knew it wouldn't be that easy. 

Malfoy clambered back hastily and stared, eyes wide, at a reflection of Narcissa Malfoy. 

"Malfoy," Harry said, very carefully. "She's not real."

His words didn't seem to reach Malfoy as he stared at his mother in horror. The image of her was unflattering, even Harry could tell. She looked beautiful as ever, all right, but all personality had been washed from her expression apart from pain and anger.

_"You left us, Draco,"_ she hissed. _"We needed you, and you just left us alone with that maniac!"_

"I - I -" Malfoy whispered, clearly shaken.

"Draco!" Merlin said, clearly alarmed, but Malfoy didn't react.

_"We might already be dead, and you wouldn't even know!"_ she called. _"Family doesn't do this to each other, Draco!"_

Malfoy's hand was shaking now, but he was gripping the sword a little tighter, and his jaw clenched. 

"Does family do what you and father did to me?" Malfoy brought out, with some difficulty. "Pushing me into a war I never even wanted to be part of? Conditioning me to choose a side when I was too young to choose my own?"

The fake Narcissa blinked and watched him silently for a moment, her face calculating. And then, she disappeared and in her stead stood now a horrifying replica of none other than Harry himself. 

_"What do you think you are doing?"_ he heard himself say, a nasty smile on his lips. _"Playing the hero, as if any of us would ever believe you. What a joke."_

Panic whirled up in Harry as he looked at Malfoy and saw the anger in those grey eyes. 

"Draco," Harry whispered, unconsciously taking a step towards him. "Please -"

But Malfoy had already swung the sword - at the Horcrux, not at the real Harry - and the fake version dissipated into thin air. The Diadem, on the couch table, broke into two pieces. 

Malfoy let Excalibur fall to the ground, his hands shaking too badly to hold it, it seemed. It landed with a deafening sound that made Harry flinch. 

They all stared at Malfoy, no one speaking. Malfoy was breathing hard, clenching his trembling fingers at his sides.

"Draco," Harry whispered, breaking the silence, but Malfoy cut him off with a sharp: "Don't!" 

And then he turned and fled the room. Harry felt the unreasonable urge to chase after him, but stopped himself, realising somewhere deep down that pushing Malfoy when he was this agitated was not a good idea. They  _ did  _ have a history, after all. 

The silence pressing down on them was almost suffocating and Harry was almost relieved when Arthur went and pick up the broken diadem, scanning it with a dubious expression on his face before offering it to Merlin. Merlin only glanced at it, though, seeming not really interested at the moment. 

"Well, that was dramatic," Ron quipped, clearly trying to break the tension. The attempt fell flat. Hermione and Arthur glared at him, though Arthur's glare could have cut through his bones, and Harry leaned down to gather Excalibur up from the ground. 

"Ron," he muttered. "Don't."

"I didn't -" he started, voice defensive. 

"Just don't," Harry shook his head, and he fell silent, frowning at him. Harry did not meet his eyes. Instead, he found Merlin's gaze on him. The other man, still his age in appearance due to the de-aging spell, was frowning, and he hesitated before saying, very quietly: "Draco was going to deliver a message to you from your friend."

"He was?" Harry asked, his stomach feeling like lead at the news, and not because of Luna. 

"Yes," Merlin nodded. "He made sure to ask her if she had anything she wanted him to tell you. She said that she, Ron's younger sister and Neville Longbottom were doing their best to… uphold your mission? I don't recall everything, you might have to ask Draco. But she says it was about giving people hope, and that they were safe, so you should continue doing everything you can on your end while they hold up their own resistance against Snape."

"That sounds dangerous," Hermione noted, exchanging a worried look with Ron. "Are you sure they are -"

"Draco asked the same thing," Merlin smiled, and Hermione looked flabbergasted. "But she insisted they were fine."

Harry stared at Merlin, who held his gaze with a meaningful expression, making Harry feel even worse than before. Because not only had Malfoy been  _ brave  _ today, he had also been  _ kind,  _ things he both apparently feared Harry would never see him as. 

"I should talk to him," Harry breathed. 

"Give him a while to cool down," Arthur suggested, making a face. "Eventually, he'll have to come out of his room."

"I think Arthur's right," Merlin muttered, though he didn't sound too happy about it. "It might be best to just leave him be, for now."

Harry didn't respond, silently relenting, though every pore in his body hated the idea of Malfoy up there in his room, alone and brooding. 

***

Malfoy did not resurface until late that night when everyone had already gone to bed - everyone but Harry, that was, who had taken Camp in the kitchen, both unable to sleep and unwilling to give up before Malfoy showed. 

Harry had lowered the lights so as to not disturb Arthur and Merlin in the living room, choosing rather to read one of Merlin's books with a candle lit. 

When Malfoy entered the kitchen, surely in search for the dinner Merlin had left out for him under a stasis charm, he jumped and cursed under his breath at the sight of Harry. 

"Merlin, Potter!"

"No, it's Harry," Harry smiled, only receiving an unimpressed glare for his trouble.

"Hilarious," Malfoy snorted, stepping into the kitchen, his eyes quickly finding the still steaming plate of stew. Malfoy moaned softly and grasped it, unable to suppress the complete glee on his face as he gulped down the first few bites. 

He must have been starving, Harry realised. He had barely eaten before they had taken off at dawn. He watched Malfoy eat for a few seconds, biting his tongue to hold in all the words he wanted to say. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and he began: "Malfoy, about earlier…"

"Shut it, Potter," Malfoy cut him off, throwing a well-aimed glare at him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I do," Harry argued, glaring right back in a rather defiant manner. "Because you hiding away is a little ridiculous."

"Excuse me?!" Draco sputtered. "I'm under no obligation to -"

"I might have had my doubts about you when Merlin first brought us here," Harry interrupted him, unwilling to let him launch into a rant, "but not anymore, and especially not after today. You proved yourself, Malfoy, and you're one of us now."

"Don't be stupid!" Malfoy hissed, looking slightly alarmed. "I'll never be one of you! Too much happened for that!"

"True, we have a long and problematic history," Harry allowed. "But I agreed to let that go so we can work together. You did, too."

"There's a difference between working together and becoming part of your little threesome!" Draco called, eyes wide, and Harry was glad he had cast a  _ Muffliato  _ on the walls and doors of the kitchen. 

"Why does there have to be?" Harry shrugged. "What you did today, Malfoy, with Luna -"

"Oh, don't go all mushy on me because of Lovegood!" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I was merely being decent!"

"Exactly," Harry stressed. "And a few months ago, I wouldn't have even thought that possible, so I'd like the chance to find out what you're capable of when we're friends."

"Who says I want to be friends?" Malfoy snapped, but it was way too defensive for Harry to take it seriously. 

"Well, I certainly hope you'd like to be," Harry said simply, apparently catching Malfoy by surprise because he went silent immediately. "So, will you please stop hiding away?"

Malfoy shrugged, and Harry thought that might be the most he would get out of him in terms of a positive answer. He smiled to himself and shook his head, closing the book he had been keeping himself occupied with, at last.

"What are you doing here anyway, reading in semi-darkness?" Malfoy asked sullenly, returning to his meal. "You'll turn completely blind and then how will you defeat the Dark Lord?"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head.  _ I was waiting for you, prat,  _ he thought. Out loud, he said: "Just solving a problem."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him but didn't respond. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! I'm back with the new week! Had another horrible work week with 10 workdays in a row, but somehow managed to squeeze this in between. It's a national holiday today, so I found the time to post it. Please enjoy :) This chapter tells the evolvement of Harry and Draco's relationship from three viewpoints.

"Say," Merlin muttered, eyes closed as he leaned into Arthur's ministrations with a satisfied sigh. "Have you noticed anything - hmm - unusual about Harry and Draco's behaviour lately?"

Arthur held in, effectively ceasing the tender kisses he was sprinkling up Merlin's neck, causing the other man to whine in protest. Arthur pulled away slightly to turn incredulous blue eyes onto him.

"I'm trying to feel you up, if you hadn't noticed," he pointed out, deadpan, squeezing Merlin's buttocks for emphasis, making his boyfriend squeak. "Is this really the time to discuss our adopted brats?"

"It's just -" Merlin murmured, flushed and abashed, and Arthur's indignance melted away. "You must have noticed the change in them!"

"I'm not blind,  _ Mer _ lin," he teased. "Even Ron noticed, and Ron couldn't identify emotion in others if it danced naked in front of him."

"Look who's talking," Merlin murmured, but grinned sheepishly when Arthur glowered at him.

"Watch your mouth, big shot sorcerer!" he sniped, catching Merlin's right wrist to pin it next to his head against the sofa cushion. It made the other man gasp slightly. "I'm still your king!"

"Doesn't make you any less obtuse," Merlin flashed him an innocent smile. 

"I'll give you obtuse," Arthur groaned, grinding his hips against Merlin's, drawing an equally deep sound of arousal from him. "Are we done talking about the kids now?" he checked. 

"I was just wondering… if maybe, they were getting somewhere, or if they needed help…"

" _ Merlin!" _ Arthur moaned, burying his face in the other man's neck. Merlin, wisely, didn't say anything in response. Arthur took a deep, steadying breath - asking all deities that would listen for patience before pulling back and glaring down at Merlin's mock-innocent face. "We're not going to do anything," he said, as if talking to a small child. Or maybe, as if talking to Gwaine. "They're going to figure this out themselves because they're basically a mini-copy of us that age."

_ That _ had Merlin halt and blink up at them. "Why would you say that?" he asked, curious now. 

"Really?" Arthur scoffed. "Blond, rich and snarky kid on one side and the dark-haired, skinny bloke with a saviour complex on the other? You haven't figured the math out yet?"

"Oh," Merlin said, staring up at him. "You're right. They  _ are _ like us." He paused and frowned. "Doesn't that mean they need help, though?" he checked. "It took us over a thousand years, Arthur."

"They already had help, Merlin," Arthur protested. "They are here, on the same side, working together. They'll figure out the rest."

"But -"

"Shut  _ up, _ Merlin!"

And that was the last thing to be heard from the living room that night, apart from breathy sounds and shifting bodies. 

***

"Ron," Hermione said, sitting on the windowsill and watching Harry and Malfoy lounge at the lakeside, talking animatedly. "What do you think of Harry hanging out with Malfoy all the time?"

"You know what  _ I _ think about it," Ron snapped, glowering. "But he won't hear a word against the ferret ever since he destroyed that Horcrux."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, scanning the quality of Harry's smile when at Malfoy. "And I wonder why that is. Don't you?"

"He's always had a weird obsession with him," Ron grumbled, leaning back in his armchair. "You remember sixth year, don't you? Because I still have nightmares sometimes."

"Yes, but back then, he was convinced that Malfoy was a Death Eater," Hermione reminded him, face pinched. "And he was right, wasn't he?"

"Remind me again of why we work with him?" Ron muttered.

"Because Merlin, Arthur and Harry ensure us he's on our side now," Hermione repeated, for the millionth time. "And you have to admit, since we arrived here, he hasn't done anything to earn our distrust."

"So a couple of weeks wipe out a lifetime of being an arse?" Ron questioned angrily. 

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "Harry is certainly willing to give him this chance."

"He's doing more than that, and you know it," Ron deadpanned. 

Hermione sighed and nodded. They fell silent for a little while. 

"Do you know what Ginny and Harry's terms were when they broke up?" she asked tentatively. "Was she going to wait for him?"

Ron's eyes snapped up at him, suddenly sharp. "Why are you asking that?" he demanded.

"Just out of curiosity," she muttered, but the guilty flush of her face gave her away, she was sure.

"What does Ginny have to do with Malfoy?!"

"Nothing, Ron, I just wondered -"

"You don't think Harry would cheat on my sister with the ferret?!"

Hermione sighed. She shouldn't have said anything. 

"Okay, first, it's not cheating. They broke up," Hermione reminded him sternly. "Second, Ginny might not even be waiting around for him. She's a strong, independent girl. She's been in far more real relationships than Harry."

"She's also been in love with Harry since the first time she saw him!" Ron argued hotly. "She was really broken up when he ended it!"

"So was he, couldn't you tell?" Hermione pointed out. "Harry never gets to keep anyone he cares about. He was probably more upset he had to let her go than anyone." Ron, thankfully, fell silent at that, looking abashed. Hermione took that as her opportunity to push on. " That's why it makes me wonder," she looked outside again, biting her lip, "if Malfoy is  _ here _ and Harry feels drawn to him… Well, maybe that's a good thing."

"And my sister?!" Ron called.  Hermione shrugged, a little helplessly. She honestly didn't know. "We all know he was supposed to come back to her and marry her!" Ron ranted. "There's only one end to this story!"

"They're seventeen, Ron!" Hermione chastised. "It's too early to talk about such things."

"My parents met at Hogwarts!" he protested. "Got married straight out of school! So did Harry's!" 

"Well, there was a war going on and people act rashly in times of danger," Hermione frowned. "It doesn't mean Harry will feel like marrying once the war is over."

"I thought you were Ginny's friend!" Ron snapped. "Aren't you supposed to be on her side, not on Malfoy's?"

"I was Harry's friend first," Hermione said simply. "I want him to be happy. Whatever that entails."

Another heavy silence fell upon them, but this time, they didn't pick the conversation up again. 

***

Draco had only closed his eyes for a moment, but it had apparently been enough for him to doze off, and now Harry couldn't draw his eyes away from his peacefully slumbering face for the life of him. 

He knew Draco was plagued with nightmares. They had talked about it, had met down in the kitchen a couple of sleepless nights, trying to chase the dark images away with quiet conversation. He had noticed the shadows underneath Draco's eyes all day though Harry himself had slept through the night for once. 

Draco's whole face transformed in his sleep, Harry noted. The sharp lines became less defined, softer somehow, making Harry want to reach out to trace them with his fingertips. He pressed down on the urge. Instead, he gave into another one - he drew his wand and conjured a blanket, whispering the incantation so to not stir Draco, and draped the thin woollen cover over him carefully. The air outside was still mild for the season, allowing them to sit outside comfortably in their coats, but he didn't want Draco to catch a cold.

His movements were not gentle enough, it seemed, despite his best intentions, because Draco's eyelids fluttered and he blinked up at Harry blurrily. 

"S'ry," he rasped, rolling onto his back. "Did I drift off?" 

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, and the firm tug in his chest when sleepy grey eyes met his and held the contact were  _ not  _ part of the deal, Harry thought helplessly. 

He had not planned for any of this to happen. 

"I hope it wasn't in the middle of the conversation, at least," Draco muttered, cracking a smile, and Harry felt like he was falling, though he was safely sat on the grass. 

"A little bit," Harry admitted, just this side of breathless, but he tried to play it off with a smile of his own. "But it's okay. I'm not you. I don't mind."

Draco chuckled, eyes crinkling in the honest laughter that Harry had come to find so enchanting, and something inside of him gave away, the last bit of resistance that he'd been desperately clinging to, and then he was reaching out for Draco. 

He cupped his cheek, effectively making Draco start and his eyes fly to Harry's again, wide and unsure. But Harry was already leaning in, and then, his lips were on Draco's. 

Draco's lips were shockingly soft and warm for the cold air. He lay unmoving, at first, obviously not having expected Harry's advance. And fair enough, Harry hadn't expected it, either. But as Harry's lips caressed his, tenderly passing over them again and again, Draco began to respond, if only tentatively. It was enough, though, because the moment Draco's lips started pressing back against his, Harry felt it through his whole body.

He shivered, his hand drifting from Draco's cheek upwards until he could burrow into his hair, and at the sensation of silky-soft strands between his fingers, Harry couldn't help but let a soft sound of pleasure slip against Draco's lip. Draco gasped, and his fingers found Harry's forearm, clinging to it.

When Harry finally pulled away, gasping for air, he couldn't tell how much time had passed. It could have been years, as far as he was concerned, and yet, not enough. Draco was blinking rapidly, fair skin flushed as he stared up at him. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen him this flustered. 

"What -" Draco started, before clearing his throat and beginning again. "What was that?"

"A kiss," Harry replied, cracking a smile. "Really, Draco, I thought that was obvious?"

Draco's eyes narrowed, and Harry was relieved to find him looking a little more like himself again. 

"I  _ know  _ it was a kiss," he snapped. "I'd just like to know why it happened. Aren't you with the Weaslette?"

At the mention of Ginny's name, Harry's smile fell. He'd tried very hard not to think about her since these feelings for Draco had started creeping up in him, because every time he did, he felt sick to the bones. 

"No," he answered, though his voice was heavy, and he turned to lie on the grass next to Draco, staring up at the late afternoon sky. "We broke up."

Draco was silent for a long moment before he informed him, with a cutting tone: "I won't be your rebound, Potter."

"Of course not!" Harry called, feeling offended at the thought. "This is not what this is about! I broke it off with her, if you have to know, before leaving Hogwarts this summer. In this war…" he sighed deeply, shaking his head. "People I care about tend to get hurt, Draco. It was better not to make her a target." As soon as the words were out, his stomach sank and he cursed. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Because of her?" Draco asked, clearly stung. 

"No!" Harry snapped, his voice unexpectedly loud, and it made Draco flinch. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, angry with himself. "Don't you get it? I can't  _ be _ with anyone! Voldemort will exploit it as soon as he finds out! I can't put you in that kind of danger! That was the reason I broke up with Ginny! How could I forg-"

"Harry," Draco interrupted him, his tone carefully blank. "The Dark Lord doesn't realise I exist."

"I - well - okay, maybe not at the moment!" he sputtered. "But he will, if we're not careful, and I can't -"

"We're protected by the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist, Harry," Draco reminded him. "Merlin's not going to just let the Dark Lord waltz in here as he pleases. We're safe. He won't find out anything we don't want him to, and he won't get to us unless we go looking for him. Simple as that."

"What point are you trying to argue here?" Harry demanded, a little irked. 

Draco was quiet for a long moment, as if pondering the very same question. Then he murmured, very quietly: "I just don't think this situation is comparable with your prior breakup, is all."

Harry gulped, his heart beating very fast. 

"Would you want to be with me?" he asked, his voice cracking. 

"Would you?" Draco shot back. "Be with me?"

"I asked first," Harry pouted.

"Well, gold star for you," Draco rolled his eyes. It was clear he refused to back down without an answer. Bloody Slytherin. 

"If we were just two people, and there wasn't a war going on…" Harry muttered, closing his eyes. He took a shaky breath. "I think I'd already be snogging you into every surface of Merlin's house."

When he opened his eyes again, Draco was flushed and gulping as he processed his words. "What about Ginevra?" he asked eventually. "Isn't she waiting for you?"

"I don't know," Harry muttered, frustrated with himself. "She didn't say anything about waiting, but she kissed me on my birthday and…" he hesitated, before admitting: "I said dating opportunities would probably be sparse. I didn't expect  _ you." _

Draco smiled a little at that. "For what it's worth, I didn't expect you, either," he said softly. 

"Yeah, well," Harry muttered, his stomach twisting at the sight of Draco's smile.

Draco shifted until he was sitting next to Harry, their shoulders pressed against each other's. 

"I really think the situation is different now than it was a couple of months ago," Draco said, strangely calm and rational, and Harry wondered how he was doing it when his own brain was a mess of feelings and guilt. "You're not alone anymore, for one. Merlin will keep us safe."

"You  _ really _ trust Merlin, huh?" Harry asked, with no little amazement.

"Beyond the shadow of a doubt," Draco shrugged. "Hell, he orchestrated all this to bring Arthur back to life. He'll be sympathetic to our situation."

"I just…" Harry frowned, trying to express his reluctance. "You used to hate it, letting people help you. What changed?"

"Harry, people never used to give me the freedom to make decisions for myself," Draco frowned. "Of course I hated any kind of outside interference. I wanted to prove I could work things out for myself. But Merlin never did that. He was the first person to give me a real choice."

"Dumbledore gave you a choice," Harry argued. 

"Too little, too late," Draco rolled his eyes. "Merlin's offer, I felt actually able to take. And once you realise someone trusts you to make your own decisions, Harry, it's easier to accept help from that person."

Harry mulled his words over. "It's not that I don't like accepting help," he concluded, at last. "It's just, as a child, I had no adults around to offer it. My aunt and uncle weren't exactly the warmest people… And later… well, I had plenty of people offering me help, but -"

"You ended up doing things on your own," Draco nodded. "From what I could gather, Dumbledore wanted it that way, too."

"Maybe," Harry allowed, "now that he's dead, it's hard for me to understand what his plans entailed."

"Well, Merlin is _here_ ," Draco shrugged. " _I'm_ here," he continued, more gently. "Maybe it's okay to rely on people now."

Harry didn't say anything, but he watched Draco for a long moment. Draco held his gaze, letting him look his fill. Finally, something settled within Harry, and he reached out to connect their lips again. 

The relief was palpable. It felt like he'd drenched himself in a healing spring, his anxieties washed away and giving way to pleasure and want so fast that he was clinging to Draco without making the conscious decision to do so. This time, Draco gave as good as he got, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and effectively catching him, lips pliant and responsive, hot and addictive. 

When they broke away, they were both out of breath, and Draco leaned his forehead against Harry's. 

"Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah… Let's do this, okay?"

"This is a horrible mistake," Harry warned, making Draco grin.

"The worst," he agreed. "But when have we ever been smart about each other?"

And really, how could Harry argue with that? He drew Draco into another kiss, figuring it was response enough. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm here with the next update! This one is very short, as these updates were originally meant to be (even though I realise they've grown a lot longer recently). I'm already working on the next one, though, which will be longer and laced with more actual plot, and seeing as the end of my job training seems to have given me some energy, that one might be following soon. For now, I hope you're enjoying this one :)

Draco sat on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, trying hard to drown out the yells from downstairs by focusing on his book, though he knew it was futile. He was too tense, knowing that Harry was down there defending their budding relationship, and he could only keep himself from pacing around the room by hugging his legs close.

He startled at the knock on his door. It couldn't be Harry - he was still yelling downstairs. 

"Yes?" he said, rather tentatively. 

The door opened and Arthur stuck his head in, grinning sheepishly. "Still got place for an old king?" he joked. "Merlin threw me out because he was afraid I would murder Ron."

Draco smiled at that and gestured to the unoccupied left half of the bed. "Make yourself comfortable," he said. "Let's not kill Weasley together."

"Sounds like a plan," Arthur said cheerfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind himself. He dropped himself onto the mattress with some momentum, making it bounce.

"How's it going down there?" Draco asked, trying to downplay his nerves. 

"Merlin's got it under control," Arthur shrugged. "You know, he missed his calling. He would have made a fabulous nursemaid." Draco snorted and Arthur threw him a grin. "So," he said, raising his eyebrows, "you and Harry."

"Yes," Draco sighed, "it would appear so."

"I called it, you know," Arthur smirked, making Draco stare at him in surprise. "We both did, Merlin and I, but he thought you needed help, and I said you'd figure it out on your own. Look who was right."

"You're such gossips!" Draco called, scandalised. 

"Hey, we had a whole castle to talk about back in my days," Arthur shrugged, clearly unrepentant. "Now, you'll have to do."

Draco made a face and Arthur laughed. 

"You think they'll calm down eventually?" Draco sighed, glancing at the ground as if he would be able to see through it if he tried. 

"Sure they will," Arthur shrugged. "Hermione already knew, I think. Ron's the only problem, but he's being heavily guilt-tripped by three people down there. He will break."

"I envy you your confidence," Draco muttered. 

"Draco," Arthur chuckled, "this isn't my father turning down Guinevere. Ron is stubborn and if he were one of my knights, I'd have given him the drilling of his lifetime, but he's got his heart at the right place. Somewhere, underneath all that grumbling."

"You're just saying that because he keeps asking about Camelot!" Draco accused.

"Am not!" Arthur laughed.

"Are too," Draco pouted, making Arthur shake his head at him fondly. Then, Draco froze, realising that the yelling had stopped. "Sounds like they're done," he muttered. 

"Told you," Arthur shrugged. 

They fell silent, and soon, footsteps could be heard from the stairs. Then, there was another knock on Draco's door. 

"Yes?" Draco called, heart racing. 

This time, Harry appeared in the door frame. He looked worn out and distinctly unhappy and it tore at Draco's heart. 

Arthur got to his feet with a dramatic sigh. "I'll leave you two to it, then," he announced. He patted Harry on the shoulder on the way out, but the other barely acknowledged it. His eyes were on Draco, and he quickly unfolded himself from his crouched sitting position and crawled towards the spot Arthur had left, swinging his legs over the edge and waiting for Harry to settle next to him. Harry didn't hesitate; he immediately crossed the room to sit next to Draco, their thighs pressed against each others'. Draco didn't ask for permission to wrap him up in a tight embrace after, and Harry sank into it, welcoming the touch. 

"I'm sorry you had to go through this because of me," Draco muttered because he felt like he had to. 

Harry made a sound of protest and shifted to wrap his own arms around Draco's waist. 

"It's not your fault," he muttered.

"It is," Draco argued. "I've been an arse to you and your friends ever since we've known each other."

"Well, I almost killed you. Are we really going to point fingers again?"

"I'm just saying -"

"It's in the past. You're on our side now, and as long as Ron doesn't accept that, this fight of ours will be compromised."

"But this is not about killing the Dark Lord," Draco pointed out gently. "This is about us."

"I know," Harry said, and he pulled away slightly to look at him. "But it comes down to the same thing. We're on the same side now, and if he trusted you, he'd have no problem with you and me being together."

"You know it will never be as simple as that," Draco sighed. "You dated his sister, Harry."

Harry flinched at that, making Draco regret the words. 

"I know that," Harry muttered, and his voice was trembling slightly now. "But I can't change the way I feel."

"And you shouldn't need to," Draco ensured him, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "If your friendship really is as strong as you think, he will want you to be happy."

"What if he doesn't?" Harry whispered, sounding scared. 

Draco wanted to tell him that he'd murder Ronald Weasley if he dared to hurt Harry like this, or that he wasn't worth it if he couldn't take a step back and consider his friend's happiness, but he didn't. He knew this was not what Harry needed to hear right now. So instead, he said: "He will, Harry. He always came around in the end, didn't he? Even in your infamous marital dispute in fourth year."

"You knew about that?" Harry asked, smiling despite himself. 

"The whole school knew," Draco snorted. "And I might have watched you a little more closely than the rest of them, too." 

"Why am I not surprised," Harry chuckled, but he looked fond now, and Draco felt quite pleased with himself. 

He leaned in to connect their lips, and Harry responded eagerly, fingers clutching at his shirt and holding onto him with all his might. Draco's fingers twisted in Harry's soft hair and he ran his thumb against his scalp in gentle, soothing circles, but all it seemed to do was spur the other boy on because he soon parted his lips to deepen their kiss. 

Draco's breath stuttered when Harry's tongue pushed into his mouth, eagerly caressing his own, and he suddenly felt hot all over. This was slipping out of his hands, he realised. He had wanted to comfort Harry not… start  _ this,  _ whatever 'this' was. 

"Harry," Draco breathed when Harry pulled away for a moment, only to kiss down his throat, making him shiver. "Wait -"

"Please," Harry whispered, his hands tightening on Draco's back. "Draco -"

"You're upset," Draco pointed out, trying to be reasonable, though his voice came out weaker than he'd have liked. 

"Not when I'm kissing you," Harry mumbled, his nose nuzzling against the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

"Exactly my point," Draco shuddered.

"You don't want me to feel good?"

"I don't want you to use sex as a distraction, you moron!" Draco groaned, finally managing to work a hand between them and push Harry away enough to allow Draco's brain to operate. Harry was pouting, but he also looked abashed so Draco was sure the message had been received. "I don't know how you Gryffindors do dating, but this is not a game to me," he clarified, just to be sure. "I'm not going to just ruin it because you can't keep it in your pants for 24 hours."

"I'm serious about this, too!" Harry protested, eyes wide. "I wouldn't have fought with Ron if I weren't!"

"Well, good," Draco smiled. "Then we can agree to keep the sexual dimension of this relationship for a time until we are both ready."

Harry nodded, biting his lip. "Have you ever…?" he asked hesitantly.

"As a matter of fact, I haven't," Draco admitted, embarrassed but standing his ground. "I only ever kissed Pansy, and we were more friends than anything else. So I'm sorry if I can't match your palette of experiences -"

"Are you kidding?!" Harry snorted. "I've never done anything, either!"

"Oh," Draco blinked, stunned and relieved. "I thought you and the Weaslette -"

"Ron would have murdered me!" Harry cut him off. "We only ever snogged. A lot, all right, but -"

"I don't need the details!" Draco assured him, making a face. Harry rolled his eyes. 

"It's different with you," he said, a moment later, and his tone was different now. "It feels different. More intense."

Draco looked at him and he thought he knew what he meant. He felt it, too. He'd always felt it about Harry Potter. 

"Come on," Draco whispered, scooting back on the bed until he could stretch out on the mattress. Harry got the message and followed him. Draco stretched one arm out towards the other boy, pleased when Hary immediately closed the distance between them and rested his head on Draco's shoulder, his entire body pressed up to his side. Draco wrapped his arm around Harry's waist and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Is this okay, too?" he checked, smiling. 

"Perfect," Harry sighed, his own hand finding Draco's free one and entwining their fingers. "Just stay with me."

"I can manage that," Draco grinned, resting his cheek against the top of Harry's head and closing his eyes. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with the new chapter for this one, including lots of angst and plot and dramatic characters on all sides of the story ;) I hope you'll enjoy it! Also, yay me for updating the third week in a row. Please don't get used to this speed lmao. I am on a go for this story and have written quite a bit ahead on my way to work on the bus. I have another chapter on reserve. Everything after that depends on my energy level, as always ;)

"I think Voldemort is close to finding Gregorovich," Harry told Draco as he was about to get up in the morning, making Draco freeze.

"Gregorovich?" Draco frowned. "The wandmaker?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, his face pale.

"Okay," Draco said, sitting up and facing Harry, his no-nonsense face on. "One, how do you know this? Have you got a tracking spell on him I don't know about? And two, what does he want with another wandmaker? He has Ollivander!"

"Ollivander can't give him a satisfactory solution on how to overcome the connection between our wands," Harry shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "He's looking for a different answer."

"You ignored my first question," Draco reminded him, and Harry grimaced. 

"It's my scar," Harry sighed. "I have a sort of connection to Voldemort. I don't really understand it, and no one was ever properly able to explain. After all, there aren't any cases like mine to compare to."

"What kind of connection?" Draco asked, feeling cold all over. 

"I can see his thoughts sometimes, or feel his emotions," Harry shrugged. "Strong ones, mostly anger or joy. I sometimes get flashes of what he's up to. I saw him looking for Gregorovich tonight."

"But the Dark Lord is one of the most powerful Occlumens I have ever encountered!" Draco sputtered. "How come you can see into his head?!"

"I don't think he can always help it."

"Does it work both ways?" 

"He planted images in my head before, but I don't think he can spy on me. At least, I hope," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Snape tried to teach me Occlumency but I was pants at it. So there's no way of knowing for sure."

"How come you never told me any of this?!" Draco demanded, his temper flaring up now. "We've worked together for months, been in a relationship for weeks, and you never thought to mention you had a mental connection to the Dark Lord we were trying to destroy?!"

"I thought you knew!" Harry called. "My story was all over the  _ Prophet _ , thanks to Rita Skeeter! Plus, you worked  _ for  _ him!" 

"I know better than to believe everything the _Prophet_ says by now!" Draco shot back, stung.  "And just because I did his bidding doesn't mean he confided in me!"

"All right, all right," Harry winced. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Obviously," Draco snapped, his tone scathing. "What else did you keep from me?"

"Nothing!" Harry shook his head. 

"Are you sure about that?" Draco checked, glowering. "Because if I find out we've run our heads off trying to find that stupid last Horcrux and you've been keeping information for your merry threesome -"

"I told you everything I know about the cup," Harry said, but his voice was small, guilty, proving Draco right in his suspicions. 

"So you've been keeping information from us!" he yelled. 

"Not on purpose!" Harry ensured him, looking desperate now. "I just - might have forgotten to mention some things -"

"Like what?" Draco cut him off, voice ice.

Harry sighed. He bent over towards the bedside table where he had taken to storing his belongings, opening the drawer and withdrawing a small leather pouch. He opened the zipper and pulled out a snitch, its wings fluttering excitedly as he handed it to Draco. 

"Dumbledore left this to me," he said. "I don't know why. It's the snitch I caught in my first match. I don't know if you remember? I almost swallow it, and it appears to be enchanted to open when I put it to my mouth. Only when I do it, all that appears is writing, reading  _ 'I open at the close' _ ."

"That's… mysterious…" Draco frowned, anger fading to intrigue despite himself. "Maybe it means you need to open it once the battle with the Dark Lord is nearing?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. 

"You should show it to Merlin," Draco suggested. "I'm sure he can crack it."

"You're right," Harry blinked. "I didn't think of that."

"Of course you didn't," Draco rolled his eyes. His fingers clenched around the snitch and he crossed his arms in renewed annoyance. "Anything else Dumbledore left you?" 

"Yes," Harry admitted, eyes cast down. "We don't know what any of it means, though. There's a fairy tale book for Hermione and a deluminator for Ron."

"A what?" 

"It puts lights out."

"Fascinating," Draco drawled. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "He tried to leave me the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, but the Minister wouldn't hand it over. We think he wanted us to use it to destroy Horcruxes with it because it's Goblin-made and must have absorbed the Basilisk venom when I killed the one in the Chamber of Secrets in second year. But we don't need it anymore now, since we have Excalibur."

"Stunning deductive skills, Potter," Draco snarled, getting to his feet. 

"Draco…" Harry sighed, looking pained. 

"I'm going downstairs to show this to Merlin," Draco announced, indicating to the snitch. "You have two minutes to make your sidekicks relent their heirlooms or I swear to Salazar you will remember what it's like to be my enemy."

And with that, he stalked out of the room, fuming. He found Merlin in the kitchen, having breakfast with Arthur and Granger, and they all looked a strange mix between startled and worried when he swept into the room. 

"We heard yelling upstairs," Merlin frowned. "Is everything -"

"Potter and his minions have been keeping secrets," Draco snapped, thrusting the snitch in his hand at Merlin, who seemed alarmed now. "They inherited an assortment of strange objects from Dumbledore and Harry has an ominous connection to the Dark Lord's mind. Can you open this?"

"I - what?" Merlin blinked, stomped at the influx of information. Draco couldn't fault him. 

"Harry said something must be hidden inside the snitch," Draco clarified. "Can you open it?"

"Oh," Merlin frowned, glancing at the little ball in his hand. "I can try?"

"That's all I ask," Draco nodded, before turning on Granger with a death glare. She had the decency to look abashed. "And you, get your damned book, now!"

Granger nodded, eyes wide as she jumped up to hurry out of the room. 

"Well, well," Arthur commented. "Don't let it be said you can't be intimidating."

"This isn't funny!" Draco snapped. "They've been keeping things from us ever since they arrived here!"

"So did I, in the beginning," Merlin reminded him gently. 

"And I yelled at you for it," Draco hissed. "Yet _you_ thought you were doing the right thing! Harry and the others just couldn't be bothered to trust us with all the information -"

"That's not true," Harry said softly, though his voice was strained as he lingered in the doorway, as if unsure whether to enter or not. Granger and Weasley were on his heels. 

"Oh?" Draco raised his eyebrows, glaring at him. "Then what is it? You just  _ forgot  _ to mention vital information to the people that are trying to help you?"

"We don't have to tell you anything, you dirty -" Weasley began from behind Harry, but he cut himself off with a groan.

"Don't, Ron!" Granger hissed.

"I'm really sorry, Draco, " Harry muttered. "We should have said something. We should have -"

"I don't care about them!" Draco yelled. "I know  _ they  _ don't trust me! I care that you don't, though!"

"This has nothing to do with not trusting you, Draco!" Harry shook his head, looking desperate now, and Arthur got to his feet, stepping between them. 

"Okay, why don't we all sit down?" he suggested, and suddenly, Draco saw the king he once was - persuasive yet authoritative in a way that made you follow what he said even when your instinct was to fight him. So Draco huffed as he took the chair next to Merlin, crossing his arms as Arthur pulled the three Gryffindors further into the room and made them sit, as well, though he took the chair between him and Harry, probably as a security barrier. "Now, let's all calm down and talk about this rationally."

"Oh, I bet you were so rational when you found out Merlin was a wizard," Draco muttered, making Merlin smile. 

"He has a point," Merlin raised his eyebrows. 

"This is different," Arthur rolled his eyes. 

"Right," Draco grumbled. "Because he was afraid to be executed if anyone found out the truth. What did Harry have to be afraid of? Did he think I'd run to the Dark Lord with his information, when no one remembers my name?!"

"I wasn't afraid of anything!" Harry called, an edge to his voice. "I didn't actively try to keep it from you!"

"Yeah," Draco rolled his eyes. "Right."

"Really, Draco," Granger started, and he grimaced at the use of his first name. "We might have been reluctant to divulge information at the beginning, but that quickly changed. I guess it just slipped our mind? We've been at this for years, it's hard for us to tell sometimes what's new information to others." She slid the book she'd been holding across the table, and Arthur pushed it in front of him. "Dumbledore left me this. It's a first edition of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. We're not sure why he wanted me to have it…" She trailed off and Draco glanced at the book, not gracing her with a response. 

"He might have wanted to send you some kind of code," Merlin suggested. 

"Through children stories?" Weasley asked, looking sceptical. 

"They might seem childish to you, but they have a serious historical background in a lot of cases," Merlin frowned. "You should have come to me sooner. I might have been isolated, but I've been alive for a long time. I could tell you more about what they mean." Granger looked crestfallen at this, Draco noted with some satisfaction. "I might not trust Dumbledore's intentions completely," Merlin frowned, staring at the book as if he could read their deceased Headmaster's thoughts through it if he tried hard enough, "but I am curious about the information he withheld from the world."

"Why do you not trust Dumbledore?" Granger asked, watching him closely. 

"That's not important now," Merlin shrugged.

"Right," Draco agreed, rather grimly. "Let's just crack that snitch and see what Dumbledore was hiding."

"Alright," Merlin nodded, pulling his eyes away from the book and directing them first to the struggling ball trapped inside his fist, then to Harry. "If that's okay with you?"

"Of course," Harry nodded. "I've been dying to find out what's inside for months."

Merlin nodded, focussing his gaze back on the snitch. It fluttered all the harder, as if sensing its doom. Merlin's eyes turned golden a moment before the snitch began to glow. 

"There's quite a strong protective enchantment on it," Merlin told them calmly. "It's supposed to open only when Harry's close to death."

"Excuse me?" Draco sputtered, eyes widening. 

"One sec-" Merlin muttered, biting his bottom lip in concentration. Then, he opened his palm to allow the snitch to part at the seam, revealing a black stone finely carved to resemble a tiny pyramid. Merlin frowned and tipped the snitch so that the stone landed in his palm, discarding of the ball on the kitchen table - only to gasp the moment he held the stone in his bare hand. His eyes widened and he stared past them for a few moments, looking both horrified and something else Draco couldn't place - young, maybe, younger than Draco had ever seen him, even in his seventeen-year-old body. 

"Merlin," Arthur breathed, standing up to make his way over to him. "What's wrong?"

Merlin dropped the stone on the table, maybe startled by Arthur's voice. He was breathing fast and he seemed thoroughly shaken, which alarmed Draco more than anything that had happened in the last couple of weeks. 

"What happened?" Arthur asked, reaching out to touch his elbow. "What did you see?"

"I…" Merlin trailed off, gulping. When he didn't continue, Arthur looked at the stone on the table, his eyes narrowed. His hand went for it, but Merlin was faster, snatching his wrist in an iron grip. "Don't touch it!" he hissed.

"Why?" Arthur asked, rounding in on him again. "What did you see that scared you so much?"

'It - it didn't scare me as much as -" Merlin muttered, gulping. He wasn't looking at Arthur when he breathed: "I thought this was lost. I haven't heard of anyone actually using it for centuries."

" _ What _ is it?" Arthur called, clearly fed up with Merlin's stalling.

"Centuries ago, there were wizards who experimented with magic," Merlin sighed. "And they created a stone that allows you to communicate with the dead."

Arthur paled. He stared at Merlin for a long moment. 

"You saw them," he whispered. 

"All of them," he breathed, his voice shaking. "Mum, Dad, Gaius, Gwen -" 

And with that, Arthur was launching himself at the table, but Merlin was just as quick, using his magic to move the stone out of Arthur's reach, floating it above their heads. 

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled. 

"Don't, Arthur!" Merlin called, looking stricken. "Why do you think I never went looking for this, even before you returned?! Because this stone is the way to madness! You'll lose yourself in the past, talking to people who are long gone, and forget to live in the here and now!"

"Oh, and this coming from the person who spent a millennium living on a lakeside trying to bring me back to life!" Arthur shot back. 

Merlin looked like he had been struck at the words and it only took a moment for Arthur's eyes to widen in horror. He froze.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I didn't mean that. I swear I didn't. Merlin -"

Merlin nodded, though his jaw was still clenched and his golden eyes looked haunted. Arthur approached him carefully, cupping his cheeks and bringing their foreheads together. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

The stone sunk down from the ceiling and landed gently on the kitchen table. Draco saw Harry reaching for it, but he was quicker, catching his wrist in his hand. 

"Harry," he said, and his voice was soft now. "No."

"But," Harry muttered, green eyes fixed on the stone. "My parents - Sirius -"

"No," he repeated, tugging at his arm to make Harry meet his eyes. "Merlin is right. This stone is dangerous."

"I have to agree with the ferret," Weasley said, much to Draco's surprise. He sounded deeply concerned. "Remember that mirror in first year? You visited it all the time all winter. You were obsessed, mate."

"In The Tales of The Three Brothers, the second brother got a stone like that from Death, and he ended up killing himself in despair," Hermione whispered, nodding to the book that was still lying on the table, not far at all from the stone.

"The story is based on the true story of the creators of the stone," Merlin informed them, still pale but voice significantly steadier now. Arthur had his arm around him, and he was still glancing at the stone with a clear longing in his eyes, but he didn't reach out to touch it again. "The Peverell brothers dabbled with rituals of the old religion and created three immensely powerful objects: A stone that allows you to communicate with the deceased, a wand that is meant to be more powerful than all others, and an Invisibility Cloak that withstands all detection spells and never fades."

Harry perked up at that, breaking from his trance to share startled glances with Granger and Weasley. 

"But," he said, "isn't that last one normal?"

"Normal?" Draco blinked. "Harry, Invisibility Cloaks are rare at best, and all of them stop working eventually. No enchantment lasts forever."

"But the one on mine never stopped working," Harry frowned. "And I got it from my father, so it must be really old." 

"What?" Draco asked, feeling rather faint now. 

"Show it to me," Merlin demanded, alert again. 

Harry fumbled for his wand and summoned the cloak. As soon as it swept into the room, Merlin's eyes lid up to change the cloak's course so that it landed right in his hands. He scanned the fabric with golden eyes, and for a long, tense minute, they were all silent, waiting for his judgement. 

"This is not a merely enchanted object," Merlin breathed. "Old magic is embedded in its fibre. Its indeed the cloak the Peverell's made." He looked up at Harry, stunned. "You must be a descendant. The cloak was handed down generation to generation, unlike the other objects."

"So, you mean to say the fairy tale is actually real and we've had two of the objects here all along?" Weasley asked, mouth hanging open. "Is that why Dumbledore gave Hermione that book?"

"Well, the whole drama about Death and Master of Death is nonsense," Merlin rolled his eyes. "These objects are wizard-made, and uniting them won't give you any mystical powers. But they do exist. People dubbed them the Deathly Hallows."

"Blimey," Weasley muttered. "And Dumbledore wants us to, what, collect the last one?"

"Maybe he just wants us to stop the Dark Lord from getting to the last one," Draco said, deep in thought. "Harry said he's currently after Gregorovich, a  _ wandmaker. _ "

"Gregorovich was the last known owner of the Elder Wand," Merlin blinked. "He bragged with it. It was good for business, you see?" 

"Well, there we have our answer," Draco sighed. "What will we do about it?"

"Well, we don't know whether Gregorovich still has the wand," Merlin said reasonably. "It would be unusual for a single person to hold onto it for so long, especially when it's known they have it. Voldemort might find himself at a dead end."

"And if he doesn't?" Hermione asked, sounding scared. 

"Then Harry will tell me immediately once he found out where it is," Merlin shrugged. "And I'll try to get there first."

"Wait!" Arthur called, eyes wide. "You won't go face him alone!"

"Arthur," Merlin sighed, that pained look on his face which gave away that he'd rather not be having this particular discussion again in the next 200 years. "I can take care of myself. I'll pop in and out before he even gets to the wand and that's that."

"But what if you're not quick enough?" Arthur argued. "What if he sees you, and you end up in a fight - he's  _ immortal,  _ Merlin!"

"So am I," Merlin shrugged. 

"But you can be wounded!" Arthur yelled. "And I'm not losing you, too!" 

"Arthur," Merlin breathed, his face softening. "You won't lose me."

"I'm not taking any chances," Arthur shook his head, jaw set stubbornly.

"Tom Riddle is a child compared to me," Merlin told him, a little patronising now. "The thought that he could hurt me is ridiculous, Arthur, even if we faced each other."

"That is all well and good," Arthur glared, "but I'd still feel easier if you took someone with you. And I know you won't take me - we've had that discussion - but maybe, one of the kids -"

"They'd all be in terrible danger!" Merlin argued. "It's safer if I do it alone! This way, I also don't have to watch out for anyone."

"Are you sure, Merlin?" Hermione asked timidly. "Maybe Arthur's right. We shouldn't underestimate Voldemort."

"I'm not," Merlin groaned. "But I know my own power, and I know that he can't hurt me if I'm focused. Please, can't you just trust me?"

And as much as Draco, too, hated the thought of Merlin putting himself in danger, there was no doubt that he trusted Merlin above all else. So he nodded, saying: "All right. Sounds like a plan to me."

Arthur grumbled, but he didn't protest any longer. Harry said nothing, but Draco took it as silent agreement. 

"Now, about that stone," Merlin said, his face serene as he met Draco's eyes. "Draco, will you take it?"

"Me?" he asked, surprised. "Why me?"

"Because you're the person least tempted to use it for yourself," Merlin said. "Everyone else here lost someone or might be tempted to ask the dead for advice. You, on the other hand… You'll be smart enough to keep it safe. I trust you."

Draco blinked. He glanced at Harry, who was looking at his hands but also wasn't protesting. Then, he returned his eyes to Merlin and nodded. "Okay," he said.

"Thank you," Merlin smiled. "Make sure none of us ever find it."

"I will," Draco nodded. "I'll borrow Harry's cloak and hide it."

"Good idea," Merlin nodded. He looked into the round, took in all the tired, subdued faces, and sighed. "Maybe we should break this off for today," he suggested. "We haven't even had a proper breakfast yet."

"The mood is kind of ruined," Weasley muttered.

"You, not in the mood for food?" Draco asked. "The world must be ending."

Weasley glared at him. Draco just raised his eyebrows. 

"We'll start with tea, then" Merlin shrugged. "Sit down."

They quietly took their seats again as Merlin put on a kettle. Draco took a paper tissue and wrapped the Resurrection Stone up in it, carefully placing it in the pocket of his trousers. He also took Harry's cloak, folding it over the back of his chair to use later before sitting down. 

As he did, Harry reached out for his hand, timidly touching his fingers to his palm. He probably wasn't sure whether he was forgiven, Draco realised. He considered holding the grudge for a little longer, because honestly, the fact that Harry hadn't entrusted the information to him right away stung, but then the urge to punish his boyfriend quickly ebbed away. 

They had done so much worse to each other in the past. Draco had done horrible things, and Harry had forgiven him. It would be ridiculous to throw away what they had now over something so meaningless. 

So Draco closed his fingers around Harry's and squeezed, and he heard Harry exhale next to him. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with the next update for this story, and more drama. The groundwork for this plot development has been laid in the last chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy the outcome. Happy reading :)

Merlin found Draco up in the farthest corner of the attic, where he stored the books he didn't like to keep down in the living room. He was perched upon the window sill, long legs stretched out in front of him as he clung to a book, bloodshot eyes flying over the page. 

Merlin cleared his throat, alerting Draco of his presence. The younger boy twitched and stared up at him with wide eyes, clearly not having counted on being caught. He let the book fall shut and covered the title with his hands. 

"Hey," Merlin smiled, crossing the distance between them and sitting down on the little space Draco had left on the windowsill. Draco drew his legs in to make more room for him. "What are you doing, hiding up here by yourself?"

"I'm not hiding," Draco replied, a little too quickly. 

"Oh?" Merlin enquired, raising his eyebrows. "So you just regularly seek out the farthest corner of the house while everyone is downstairs having tea?" His tone gentled when Draco didn't answer immediately. "I thought you and Harry had made up?" he checked. Draco made a face. 

"It's not that," he shook his head. "I'm not avoiding him or anything."

"Could have fooled me," Merlin pointed out. "Harry certainly seems to think so. You should have seen his face downstairs."

Draco looked frustrated at that piece of information. "I'm not mad at him!" He ensured Draco. "I was just… doing some reading, and I wanted peace and quiet."

"Okay," Merlin said calmly. "Reading on what, exactly?" Draco sighed. It was clear that he hadn't planned on divulging that piece of information, but he also didn't seem ready to lie to Merlin. Finally, he pushed the book in his lap at Merlin, who took it cautiously, eyebrows furrowing. "You're reading about Horcruxes?" he asked, surprised. "Why?"

Draco was silent for a long moment. Then, he took a shaky breath and muttered: "Don't you think it's weird? That Harry is able to look into the Dark Lord's head?" 

"Very," Merlin admitted.

"Yeah, well, I was thinking… By making six Horcruxes, the Dark Lord weakened his soul immensely, did he not?"

"More than you can imagine," Merlin nodded. "It's bound to be extremely unstable at this point." Draco seemed deeply troubled by his words, as if his fears had been confirmed. "What is it, Draco?" Merlin asked. 

"The night he went to kill Harry and his parents," Draco said, and now his voice was trembling a little. "What if the - force of Lily Potter's protection split a part of the Dark Lord's soul from him? What if it clung to Harry because he was nearby? What if the Dark Lord unknowingly created a Horcrux that night, inside of Harry?"

Merlin stared. He blinked. Then he cursed, his heart racing. "I should have thought of that," he whispered. " _ Why  _ didn't I think of that?!"

"So you think I'm right?" Draco asked, and now he looked truly distraught. "I'd hoped you'd tell me I was imagining things!" 

"I don't think you are," Merlin breathed, getting to his feet and starting to pace. "It would explain why Dumbledore left him the Resurrection Stone with a protection spell that only allowed access once he was ready to die. He  _ knew.  _ He bloody  _ knew!  _ That calculating  _ bastard!  _ He was playing Harry all the time!"

"So he has to die?" Draco asked, his voice choked, and Merlin turned to look at him. His eyes were swimming with tears he was desperately trying to hold in. "For the Dark Lord to be stopped, Harry has to die?"

"No," Merlin amended, voice firm. "I'm not going to let that happen."

"But," Draco muttered, gulping, "if there's a part of his soul inside of Harry -"

"We'll just have to get it out," Merlin cut him off. "I'm not Magic Incarnate for nothing. I'll find a way." 

Draco bit his lip, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling over, and his heart ached at the sight. Draco reminded him so much of himself at that very moment, desperately trying to save Arthur, all by himself. "How long have you been keeping this inside?" Merlin asked softly. "The big revelation in our kitchen was almost two weeks ago."  Draco said nothing and Merlin cursed. He sat back down on the windowsill with him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "This must have been eating you up," he sighed. 

"I wanted to be wrong so bad," Draco whispered. "Saying it out loud would have made it real."

"As someone who tried to fight a destiny on their own and failed, believe me, this isn't healthy," Merlin muttered. "I know why you did it. I've been there. But keeping secrets like that does things to you. Try to rely on us. We can help you."

At that moment, there were footsteps on the stairs and Merlin knew, instinctively, that it could be no one but Harry. Apparently, Draco had reached the same conclusion because he breathed: "Don't tell him, please."

"We have to, Draco," Merlin shook his head. 

And then, Harry reached the top of the small, spindly staircase that let to the attic, looking back and forth between them, his eyes catching on Draco's face. "What's wrong?" he asked, clearly alert.

Draco averted his face, but it was obvious that he was close to tears and there was no hiding it from Harry. Merlin sighed, gesturing to Harry. 

"Why don't you come and sit with us?" he suggested. "We need to talk."

Harry approached them hesitantly, his eyes on Draco the entire time. Merlin got up and conjured a chair out of thin air, leaving the space next to Draco for Harry. 

"Hey," Harry said softly as he sat down, reaching out for Draco's hand. "What's wrong? Why are you so upset?" Draco's lip quivered and he closed his eyes, causing a tear to slip past his lashes and fall down his cheek. "Draco?" Harry breathed, completely lost and a little scared. 

"Draco realised something, Harry," Merlin spoke up, figuring it was best if he did the actual explaining. Draco clearly wasn't up for it. "And I think he might very well be right, which means we need to talk about it."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, glancing back to Draco before focusing on Merlin again. "What is it?"

"It's about you and that connection you have to Voldemort," Merlin began. "Draco thinks there might be more to it than just the curse leaving you bonded in some way."

"I told you," Harry interrupted impatiently. "Dumbledore said -"

"We think Dumbledore has been lying to you," Merlin shook his head. "Albus Dumbledore has always had a tendency to keep secrets and play people for his own purposes, Harry. You don't know much about the fight against Grindelwald, but…" Merlin sighed. "I don't want to get into it now, but let it be established that I'm no fan."

"But if he's been lying to me," Harry muttered, frowning, "then  _ why  _ is it that I can see into Voldemort's mind?"

Draco lifted his free hand to his mouth, probably to suppress a sob. He was trembling visibly now, and Merlin wished he could comfort him  but he had to focus on Harry now, who deserved answers. Where was Arthur when he needed him?

"I don't know how much Dumbledore explained to you about the process of making Horcruxes," Merlin began, a little hesitantly, "but it weakens your soul immensely, especially if you do it repeatedly, as Voldemort did. His soul is incredibly vulnerable, and has been for a long time. So, when he went to kill you and your parents it was already… unstable." He held in, scanning Harry's face, but there was no understanding dawning yet. Right. He needed to come out and say it, then. "So the impact of his killing curse colliding with the protection his mother put on you might have splintered his soul further, without him realising."

"I don't understand," Harry breathed, his face blank.

"We think he might have unknowingly created another Horcrux that night," Merlin clarified. "A piece of his soul split off and it might have clung to the only living thing in its surroundings…"

"Me," Harry whispered, blinking. "You think I'm a Horcrux."

"It would explain a lot, Harry," Merlin said softly.

"Right," Harry said, with an eery calm. "So I have to die. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"No!" Merlin hissed, his voice sharp. "I'm not letting that happen, Harry!"

"But for a Horcrux to be destroyed, the thing holding it needs to be put beyond magical repair," Harry reminded him. "So I need to die for the Horcrux to -"

"I will find a way to separate it from you," Merlin interrupted him. "It's time to put all my power and experience to good use. I can do this. Please trust me."

Harry was silent for a long moment. Then, he turned to Draco. "How long have you known?" he asked. 

"Harry…" Merlin sighed, an edge of warning in his voice. "Don't."

"No, I'm just - I'm confused," Harry said, and there was definite accusation in his voice. " _ You _ were the one yelling about honesty and trust only weeks ago and I thought you were still avoiding me because you hadn't forgiven me, but really, it was about this, right? You knew, and you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted to be wrong!" Draco moaned, drawing himself together until he could press his face against his knees and hide it from their view. "I tried to find proof that I'm wrong," he continued, his voice muffled. "But all I found seemed to confirm it and -" he cut himself off with a choked sob, trembling violently now, and Harry watched him with wide eyes, hands twitching in his lap.

"I know what it's like, trying to save the person you love from a fate and thinking you can't tell anyone about it," Merlin shook his head. "It's lonely and suffocating and - please, don't blame him. He was just scared for you."

Harry gulped and then, he was moving, trying to somehow wrap himself around the trembling shape of Draco to soothe him somehow. 

"I'm sorry," Draco whimpered. Then: "I can't lose you."

"You won't," Merlin cut in, before Harry could even respond. "I promise I'll find a way. I brought back Arthur, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but that took you more than a thousand years, and we don't have that time…" Harry said carefully.

"I won't need a thousand years!" Merlin protested, a little stung. "I can do this. Trust me!" And with that, he got to his feet, rolling up his sleeves. "Take Draco down to your room, he needs rest and some comfort," he instructed. "I'll need peace and quiet to research."

"Okay," Harry nodded, moving immediately to manhandle a shaky Draco off the windowsill. "If you need us…"

"I quite think Draco's done enough for the time being," Merlin pointed out, and Harry nodded, glancing at his boyfriend before slinging his arm more firmly around his waist. 

"Come on," Harry muttered, and then, they made their way down the stairs, leaving Merlin to his own devices. 

Merlin spun on the spot and called onto his magic to summon all the books that might be of use to him in this particular situation. They came flying out of various corners of the room, neatly stacking themselves onto the windowsill, on the spot Draco had just abandoned. He was about to sit and pick up the first one when the sound of a familiar voice startled him. 

"Should I be worried that Harry was just dragging a crying Draco into their room?" Arthur asked conversationally, strolling into the room. "I know Draco has a tendency towards the dramatic, but tears on him don't bode well."

"No, they don't," Merlin sighed in agreement, looking up at the other man tiredly. "I'm afraid we have a bit of a problem."

"Hey," Arthur frowned, walking over to him and cupping his cheek, eyes alert now. "What's wrong?"

"We think Harry's a Horcrux," Merlin muttered, allowing the sick feeling to spread now that the kids weren't around. 

"How is that possible?" Arthur blinked. "Wouldn't we know?"

"It's a long and complicated story," Merlin shook his head, "but for now, I think it's very realistic."

"Then we need to get this thing out of him," Arthur said, all business now. 

"That's what I said," Merlin shrugged, nodding to the books. Then, he hesitated. "But, Arthur… what if I fail?"

"You won't," Arthur assured him. 

"I did with you," Merlin reminded him. 

"No, you didn't," Arthur smiled. "You brought me back."

"It took a millennium!" Merlin called. 

"Details," Arthur shrugged. 

"You didn't use to be so easygoing!" Merlin accused. 

"Any extended period in the lake of Avalon will do that to you," Arthur snorted. "Now, let's get to these books and save our child. I will help."

"These kids really grew on you, didn't they?" Merlin smiled, despite himself, watching as Arthur reached for the first book and took the chair Merlin had conjured earlier. 

"Hard not to, when they make you tea and introduce you to the wonders of the twentieth century," Arthur's lips quirked. 

"The way to your heart was always coddling, sire," Merlin scoffed, and Arthur rolled his eyes. 

"Shut up and start reading, Merlin," Arthur said. 

Merlin smiled, picked up a book, sat down on the windowsill and did just that. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm so sorry for the long silence! Life has been stressful and I've been fairly tired towards the end of the last year. But now I'm back and I've got three new chapters written for this fic, meaning you can expect some updates :D Here is the first one. Hope you'll enjoy it!!
> 
> PS: For everyone here who didn't know yet - my old twitter account was inexplicably suspended towards the end of last year and I switched to another one. Please follow me at @TheHuffleLife for ramblings and writing progress :)

They were in the middle of eating their dinner - Merlin and Arthur had had to basically pull Harry and Draco down by their ears to make sure they would interrupt their moping and fretting to come down and eat with them - when Harry suddenly hissed, his hand flying to his forehead. His fork fell onto the plate with a resounding noise and it made all of them look at him, the air immediately tense with apprehension. 

"Harry?" Draco asked, voice soft but urgent. He reached out to touch his shoulder, shadowed eyes on Harry's face. Draco had looked tired and drawn ever since Merlin had agreed with his assumption that there was most probably a Horcrux inside of Harry, and it hurt Merlin to look at him. He saw too much of himself back at Camelot in Draco's face, helpless in the face of the death sentence of his loved one. So Merlin stuck his nose into every book he could find instead, and with Arthur's help, he was slowly but surely making progress. 

At Draco's side, Harry let out a pained gasp, eyes pressed tightly shut. Then, he ground out: "He found Grindelwald."

Arthur shot a look at Merlin. "Who was that again?" he whispered.

"Evil sorcerer from roughly 50 years ago," Merlin supplied. "He stole the Elder Wand from Gregorovich."

"Ohhh," Arthur said, nodding in recognition. "So he's on the track of the wand?"

"Seems like it," Merlin nodded, his eyes on Harry. 

They fell silent as they waited for Harry to come forth with more information. Finally, Hermione murmured: "I don't know about this… Dumbledore wanted Harry to learn Occlumency because he didn't want him to use this connection with Voldemort… It's dangerous."

"Hermione," Merlin sighed. "No offence, but I really don't care what Dumbledore wanted."

"We need to find out what's going on," Arthur agreed. "This is war, Hermione. You use all means available to you."

She pursed her lips, looking unhappy but saying nothing more. 

They turned to Harry again when he opened his eyes and said, in a raw voice: "It's buried with Dumbledore!"

There was a ringing silence before, with a deep sigh, Merlin got to his feet. 

"Understood," he muttered. "Be right back."

"What?" Arthur called, eyes wide. "No, you're not -"

"Arthur," Merlin ground out, rolling his eyes. "I'm not having the same discussion  _ again.  _ There's no time and we've been through this. I'm going, and I'm doing it alone. It's too dangerous to take anyone with me."

Arthur pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly upset. Then, he hissed: "If anything happens to you, I swear, Merlin, I'll follow you to wherever you go and haunt you for the rest of eternity!" 

Merlin quirked a smile. "Noted," he said, and Arthur seemed a little appeased. 

Merlin waved into the round - all of them were staring at him apprehensively, their dinner forgotten on their plates - and then closed his eyes, concentrating upon breaking the wards to enter the Hogwarts grounds. 

The next moment, he was there, at the lakeside, the sun having set almost completely above the water surface, half-disappearing below the line of the horizon and bathing the Hogwarts grounds with a dim, orange light that reflected upon Dumbledore's white marble tomb. He hesitated, but only for a second. It  _ did _ feel like an intrusion, breaking into someone's final resting place, but Dumbledore must have counted on it to happen, or else he wouldn't have left breadcrumbs for Harry to figure out. Merlin sighed, his disdain for the former headmaster's methods flaring up again as he lifted the lid of the tomb away with his magic. It would have all been so much easier if Dumbledore had just shared his plans with the people he trusted, for a change. 

Wearily, Merlin stepped up to the tomb, glancing down at its contents. Dumbledore's face was well-preserved. It was eery. His hands were folded around the Elder Wand, as if he was protecting it even after his death. 

With another sigh, Merlin used his magic to make the wand float from his fingers and up into the air. He caught it and stepped back, adjusting the lid of the tomb with a flick of his hand. 

Curiously, he studied the wand in his hand, and just as he was about to return home to the others, he heard the sound of an apparition. 

"Don't move," a clear, cold voice commanded. 

Merlin snorted, ignoring him and turning around. "You know," he said, conversationally. "I've never been very good at following orders and I'm not about to start now."

Lord Voldemort was watching him, and there was curiosity and not a tiny bit apprehension in his red, glowing eyes. He was clearly not used being talked back to. 

"Hand the wand over," Voldemort demanded, his voice calm. "And no one need get hurt."

"Yes, well," Merlin made a face, "I don't think so." And with a burst of magic, his eyes glowed golden and Voldemort's wand flew into Merlin's hand. Voldemort started, jaw agog. "There," Merlin said, his voice pleasant. "So much nicer to talk without wands pointed."

Voldemort stared at him. Then, he asked, his voice strained: " _ Who  _ are you?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Merlin shrugged him off. "What's important is that I'm fed up with the way you're treating this world. Even leaving aside the fact that you're killing innocent people, you're putting the natural balance of magic into jeopardy, and it's been a millennium since that happened, so kudos to you, I guess. So, long story short, I'm no longer going to stand by, but I'm going to help a certain someone destroy you, so I can go back to living in peace. So I'm taking the wand, and that's that. Are we clear?"

Voldemort was gaping at him, looking like a fish out of the water. Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes. Was it just him, or had Albion's villains all been so much scarier? Say what you want about Morgana but she'd had brains and guts and flair. Nimueh, for all her faults, had at least made him angry enough to conjure down storm clouds. Not to mention she'd once nearly offed him. Even Uther had occasionally scared the shit out of him. But this modern-day villain? Take his wand away and he flailed like a stranded puppy. Pathetic. 

"Okay, then," Merlin concluded when the silence had stretched on long enough. "I'll just… leave."

"You're going nowhere," Voldemort hissed, anger returning to his eyes for the first time. 

"Oh?" Merlin scoffed. "And how are you going to stop me?"

To prove his point, Merlin flicked his wrist, and with a strangled cry of rage, Merlin's magic flung the man a couple of feet backwards, into a crumbled bundle onto the floor. 

"Alright, then," Merlin shrugged. "Ta."

And with that, he closed his eyes, broke through the wards once more and reappeared in the kitchen of his cottage. 

Everyone was dead silent, staring at him in shock. Wordlessly, Merlin dropped the Elder Wand and Voldemort's wand onto the kitchen table. 

"Done," he announced, when everyone continued staring. Ron's mouth was open, and there was a joke on Merlin's lips about flies. 

"Tell me you didn't actually taunt the Dark Lord," Draco said faintly, gaping at Merlin helplessly. "Tell me Harry was hallucinating."

It was then that Merlin realised that Harry's hand was still pressed to his scar, and he figured that he'd probably seen every bit of their exchange and had reported back to the others.

"Oh," Merlin muttered, a bit sheepish now. "Well… maybe a little?"

"A little," Hermione repeated, faintly. 

"He's really weak, though," Merlin added. "I don't know what the fuss is about."

"Merlin," Draco said, blinking. "I don't know how to break this to you, but… 'Weak' by your standards is still 'fucking bloody strong' to us."

The others nodded vehemently and Merlin sighed, because what could he say to that?

Harry hissed, pressing his eyes closed in apparent pain, and Draco crouched down next to him. 

"What is it?" he asked anxiously.

"He's angry," Harry ground out. "Furious, really."

"Oh, well," Merlin shrugged, slowly walking around the table to approach Harry. "That's to be expected. Here, let me." 

He put his fingers on Harry's temples and focused his magic. It didn't take long for Harry to sigh in relief. 

"What did you do?" Ron asked, astonished. 

"Helped with the pain," Merlin shrugged. "I'm still working on taking out the Horcrux, so for now, this is all I can do."

"Thank you," Harry sighed, looking up at him. Then, a slow grin spread over his face. "I can't believe you _sassed_ Voldemort. Oh my God. I knew why I liked you!"

Merlin smiled back and shrugged humbly. 

"You remain an utter idiot, Merlin," Arthur sighed. He looked a strange mix between cross, tired and fond, and it made Merlin walk back over to his side to press a kiss to his cheekbone. "Never knew when to shut up. No self-preservation skills whatsoever."

"I know," Merlin grinned. "It's how we met."

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he smiled at the memory. 

"Now," Merlin said, in good spirits. "Shall I reheat our dinner?"


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with the next snippet, the aftermath of Merlin's little stunt and the first smut scene of the story. Enjoy :)

Merlin awoke from a deep slumber when the door to their bedroom sprung open and children started talking over each other excitedly. He groaned, deeply regretting his life choices for a moment. Arthur tightened his arms around Merlin's torso and muttered, into his neck: "If you don't let us sleep, I'll throw you out on your bare arses, magic or no magic."

The noise didn't stop, though, so Merlin grudgingly tuned in on what whoever had come barging in on them had to say. He opened his eyes and blurrily focused them on Draco and Harry, who were both in their pyjamas, their hair sleep-tousled but their skin deathly pale and their eyes wide in fear, clearly having been shaken awake by something that had scared them to the bones. Merlin blinked and stretched, trying to clear his head from lingering drowsiness. Arthur grumbled from where he was pressed up behind him, not budging.

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

"Harry had another vision," Draco rushed out. "The Dark Lord figured out who you are, Merlin!"

Merlin frowned and Arthur tensed, suddenly awake. 

"He tortured Ollivander about who could possibly wield such wandless power," Harry explained, a shudder running through him, probably at the memory of the torture he had witnessed. "And Ollivander said he didn't know, the only person said to ever be this powerful was the legendary Merlin himself."

Merlin sighed. "So, he put it together with that?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "He asked whether there was any proof that you're actually dead. I think he figures you might have Horcruxes hidden somewhere yourself, or a Philosopher's Stone." 

"As if there was any need for that," Merlin sighed. 

Arthur finally disentangled himself, looking up at Draco and Harry, his face serene. "What is he planning to do with the information?" he asked. 

Harry gulped, not answering. It was Draco instead, expression stricken, who supplied: "He wants to finish Merlin off and find a way to take his power for himself."

Merlin couldn't help it; he laughed. "Wow," he shook his head. "He's really full of it."

"This is no laughing matter, Merlin!" Arthur hissed. "You're not invulnerable, and now this maniac is after you!"

"I'm much stronger than he is, Arthur," Merlin rolled his eyes. "Let him try, honestly."

"I agree with Arthur," Draco cut in, looking anxious. "Until now, our trump card was that he didn't know you existed, Merlin. This is bad."

"You're making too much of a deal out of this," Merlin sighed. Hermione and Ron had appeared in the doorway, probably to check for the source of all the noise. "I'm telling you, he can't -"

"So there's really no way anyone could take your magic?" Arthur challenged.

Merlin held in, remembering Morgana's attempt on that shortly before Camlann. He frowned. He settled on: "Not for long. I'm Magic Incarnate. I'll always regenerate."

"An instant might be enough to hurt you," Draco pointed out. "It's probably what the Dark Lord counts on."

"He's not stupid, Merlin," Harry agreed with a sigh. "He doesn't understand human emotions and relationships but… he's intelligent. He might find a way."

"All right," Arthur cut in, and his voice was authoritative now, kingly despite his lack of a crown. "I've heard enough. No more solo missions from you. We're going to focus on keeping you just as safe as Harry."

"That's ridiculous!" Merlin complained. "I can take care of myself! He won't be able to -"

"I'm not willing to risk that!" Arthur bellowed, cutting Merlin's protests short. "I didn't come back here to lose you! I'm not living this life without you, so you're going to have to suck it up and for once in your life, listen to me and put your safety first!"

Merlin stared at him. He had no ready response to Arthur's words and it seemed like Arthur knew that because he turned to the others, clearly considering the matter closed. 

"I'll handle him," he ground out in a gruff voice. "Go back to your rooms."

Harry nodded, his fingers finding Draco's wrist before he tugged him towards the door. Draco lingered for a moment, eyes on Merlin. 

"We all care about you," he said, eventually. "Please don't take this lightly." And then, he turned to follow Harry out of the room. 

He could hear Ron whisper: "What's going on?" before they closed the door. 

Merlin sighed, turning to Arthur again. "I know you're worried about me," he began. "But -"

He didn't come farther than that, though, because Arthur pulled him into a deep, angry kiss. Merlin's unsteady hand went to Arthur's shoulder, trying to gain some leverage over the situation, but Arthur rolled him onto his back and straddled him, pinning Merlin's hands to the pillow. 

"You careless, thickheaded, stupid -" he muttered, breaking their kiss to press their foreheads together. "If anything happens to you, Merlin, I swear -"

"Nothing will happen to me," Merlin promised. "I'm as close to indestructible as they come."

"But you're not," Arthur hissed. "You're  _ human _ , and you're vulnerable, and I need you to remember that. It's the people who fight like they have nothing to lose that will eventually lose everything."

Merlin was quiet for a moment before he lifted his hand to Arthur's face, tracing the skin of his cheek, scruffy from the late hour. 

"Don't worry," he breathed. "I know exactly what I have to lose."

"Then please, be careful," Arthur pleaded, the hand that was still holding his wrist down loosening its grip and moving to entwine their fingers. "Don't take unnecessary risks and don't put yourself in direct danger. Don't make me go through losing you after we've just found each other again."

And what could Merlin say to that? Arthur never asked for things, not like this. He always demanded and Merlin chose whether to take him seriously or not, but this, he knew, was Arthur's way of begging. And he couldn't turn him down. 

"Fine," he breathed. "I'll be good, I promise."

His reward for those words was a gentle, breathtaking kiss that made his toes curl and his voice hitch. Helplessly, Merlin wrapped his free arm around Arthur's shoulder, trying to get closer to him - as close as he could without crawling physically inside of him, preferably. 

"I love you," Arthur murmured against his lips. "I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone but you ever again, Merlin."

"Me too," Merlin sighed. "It's always been you. Arthur -"

Arthur pulled him into another urgent kiss, lowering himself so he was covering Merlin's body completely. Merlin sighed. He wondered if he would ever get used to the feeling of Arthur's body against his own. It still overwhelmed him every time it happened, centuries of loneliness being healed all over again. 

Arthur's free hand found the hem of Merlin's sleeping shirt, slipping underneath it, feeling the taut skin of Merlin's stomach. Merlin shivered under the heat of his touch - Merlin was perpetually cold, always wearing layers of varying warmth to bed, while Arthur seemed to be burning up, never wearing more than his underwear. It had been like that in Camelot and it hadn't changed now, a couple of centuries spent in Avalon later.

Eventually, Arthur let go of Merlin's hand, only to pull Merlin's shirt over his head. Merlin was pliant, letting himself be manhandled this way and that way until all their layers of clothing were gone and they were pressed skin to skin, Arthur holding Merlin tightly against himself as if he was going to disappear if he didn't. Merlin kissed him gently, meaning to reassure, but Arthur didn't let himself be soothed. 

"Can you -" Arthur murmured, not breaking the kiss, and Merlin nodded, knowing what he was going to ask without Arthur needing to finish the sentence. Eyes still closed, Merlin broke away only for a second, causing Arthur to move his lips to his neck, nipping and kissing each sensitive spot he now knew by heart. Merlin muttered a spell under his breath - modern and Latin - and he felt his anal muscles relax and his channel being thoroughly slicked by the magic. Usually, Merlin and Arthur liked to do that part themselves - it was only when they became really impatient that they used a spell to speed things along. Today, Arthur obviously didn't want to wait. 

Merlin turned his face back to Arthur's, angling for another kiss, and his lips were eagerly received. Arthur kissed with such singular focus that Merlin could allow himself to believe that they were the only two things that mattered in the universe - that there wasn't a war happening and that they didn't, once again, need to save the world from one evil sorcerer or another. Right now, in bed with Arthur, as his King and the love of his life thrust into him and made him see stars that had nothing to do with magic, none of it was of importance. 

Merlin clung to Arthur's shoulders as Arthur moved inside of him, building a slow, even rhythm that surely picked up speed. Arthur didn't stop kissing Merlin - his lips, his chin, his jaw, his ear,... Everywhere he could reach, he sprinkled breathy kisses, panting his name, and Merlin felt like he was going to come apart. 

Arthur was the kind of lover who never selfishly took what he wanted without making sure that the other person enjoyed themselves first, so naturally, he had finding Merlin's prostate down to a fine art. He knew the exact angle in which to thrust in to drive Merlin properly insane, and it was all Merlin could do to cling on as the force that was Arthur washed over him.

"I love you," Arthur breathed into Merlin's ear, and Merlin whimpered in response, unable to form words. "Merlin -'

It was all too much. The stimulation, Arthur's words - he came, untouched, and Arthur kept thrusting as he wet their stomachs with his release, kept holding him close until he, too, stuttered in his movements and finished into Merlin with a low, long groan.

They rested in each other's arms for a few long minutes, just revelling in the intimacy of their embrace. Then, Arthur turned his head and to press a clumsy kiss to his cheekbone. 

"Don't you ever dare leave me," he mumbled. 

Merlin smiled and angled his mouth to connect their lips once more, this time more gently. 

"Never," he promised.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dear readers! I'm back with another chapter and the continuation of the Horcrux-Harry problem! I hope you'll enjoy Merlin's solution to it :D

"Okay," Merlin said, and Harry thought he was trying to calm himself as much as them. "Okay. So, first, we need to confirm whether Harry's really a Horcrux or not."

"You could tell that the diadem was a Horcrux just by touching it," Ron frowned. "Why can't you do the same with Harry?"

"Because Harry has his own, inherent magic to cover up the traces of the Horcrux's," Hermione answered immediately. Harry could tell she was clinging to Ron's hand underneath the table, but, true to character, that didn't stop her from lecturing him.

"Exactly," Merlin nodded. "The diadem was an object, Harry is a person. It's much more difficult to detect traces of dark magic in a living being without a proper examination, especially when they possess a magical prowess as strong as Harry." Merlin threw him a smile, which Harry returned tentatively. "If you're indeed a Horcrux, the fact that you retained your own personality completely is remarkable. It shows how strong you are, indeed."

Silently, Harry wondered if he really had stayed entirely uncontaminated from the presence of Voldemort inside of him. He'd always known, in a way, that he and Tom Riddle had been alike, but now he felt filthy with the knowledge, like he was carrying some kind of disease. Some days, it was hard to allow even Draco to touch him.

"So, how do we find out?" Draco asked, drawing Harry out of his thoughts. He was sitting next to him at the kitchen table, but unlike Hermione and Ron, they weren't touching; Draco was completely rigid, dark shadows underneath his eyes. 

Draco was taking this almost worse than he was, which was baffling to Harry. He had known, rationally, that Draco cared deeply about things, but seeing the visible proof of how much this theory applied to Harry… Harry didn't really know how to handle it, especially when he might very well need to die to save all of them. 

"I'll just have to examine him properly," Merlin shrugged, his eyes meeting Harry's. He held up an amulet, one that didn't look unlike Slytherin's, though maybe, even more ancient, which would make sense if it was in Merlin's possession. "This will neutralise your magic for a while," Merlin explained, "and allow me to sense whether or not there is another magical presence inside of you."

"But nothing will happen to Harry's magic?" Hermione injected quickly.

"Of course not," Merlin ensured her. "I will capture it in the amulet and return it once I'm done. It's perfectly safe." He hesitated for a moment before he added. "If there's indeed a Horcrux, though, and your magic suppressed its power for all those years… Let's say it might be uncomfortable for you, Harry."

"All right," Harry sighed. "Let's get it over with, then."

"Okay," Merlin nodded. "Draco, you might like to sit over there with Arthur. I don't want to accidentally take your magic, as well."

Draco's jaw was clenched, and he seemed reluctant to leave Harry, but he did listen to Merlin and got to his feet, taking the free chair on the other side of the table. Arthur put a comforting hand on his stiff shoulder.

"Good," Merlin nodded, taking the seat Draco had just abandoned. "It's not going to take long, I promise."

"It's okay. I trust you," Harry said, though he would be lying if he said that he wasn't nervous. 

Merlin nodded, smiling at him. "Ready?" he asked. 

"Ready," Harry confirmed. 

Merlin opened the amulet and held it in front of Harry. There was a white, pearly stone inside which glittered when the sunlight filtering in from the window hit it and then, Harry gasped, feeling his magic draining from him. Golden strands of energy were flowing from his chest into the stone and he felt weak and sick. The more magic left his body, the more something else spread inside of him. It felt not unlike wearing the other Horcrux had felt - like a density of negative emotions spreading through him, choking him, and Harry gasped for air, clinging to the tabletop. 

"What's happening to him?" he heard Draco call, his voice panicked. 

"It might be the shock of losing his magic," Merlin said, sounding worried. "Or, it might be the Horcrux."

Eventually, the draining sensation ended, all of Harry's magic having left his body, and all that remained was darkness and despair. Harry didn't dare to breathe. There was something pulsating inside of him, like a second heart, the evil mirror image of his own. 

"It's there," Merlin whispered, breathless. "There's definitely a Horcrux."

"Are you sure?" he heard Arthur say.

"Positive," Merlin replied. "Hold on, I'll just -" And then, Harry's magic started returning, and his sense of self with it. He opened his eyes, wide and terrified. 

Draco, Hermione and Ron were on their feet immediately, approaching them all at once, keen to comfort and reassure, but Harry jumped up and backed away. "Don't touch me!" he hissed. 

They hadn't felt what he had just felt. There was something truly  _ evil  _ inside of him. 

"Give him some space," Arthur warned, his voice cautious.

"But -" Hermione started. 

"Harry, I can get this out of you," Merlin interrupted her. "Just let me try."

At those words, Harry looked up, finding Merlin's blue eyes, steady and confident with his experience despite the worry he displayed. 

"You can?" Harry asked, a small spark of hope tearing through the desperation he felt. 

"I'm pretty sure," Merlin nodded. He got to his feet and picked up a little box he had placed on the table. It was engraved with symbols Harry didn't recognise. "I'm going to pull it out of you and place it in here. It will have the power to contain the fracture of Voldemort's soul even shapelessly. Then, we can destroy the box and the piece of his soul."

"But can you just separate the Horcrux from Harry without harming him?" Hermione asked, her voice high with panic. "I thought he  _ was  _ the Horcrux?" 

"He is, and since he grew up with the presence inside of him, it will be difficult, but I think I found a way," Merlin said. 

"How?" Draco asked, hanging on the other man's lips for answers. 

"By giving him a bit of my magic," Merlin smiled softly. "It will fill the emptiness in Harry's soul. It will keep him alive."

"Blimey," Ron whispered. 

"But… isn't that the same thing Voldemort is doing?" Hermione frowned. "Aren't you splitting yourself in two, as well?"

"I'm not creating a Horcrux, Hermione," Merlin chuckled. "I'd have to kill for that. No, I'm just… planting a seed of my magic in him? I'm Magic Incarnate, remember? I can create living things. The rules of my magic are different than those of yours."

"Okay," Harry whispered, his heart racing. "Do it, then. I want that thing out of me."

Merlin's lips tightened in understanding and he nodded. "Everyone, step away from Harry again," he instructed. "Sit down. It's best to not do this standing up."

Hesitantly, his friends made their way over to the other side of the table again, all of them well out of reach of whatever might happen once Merlin started the procedure. Harry was the last to walk over to the chair he had taken earlier, sitting down with some difficulty. He would have preferred to remain standing. 

Merlin himself, incidentally, didn't sit; instead, he placed himself next to Harry, slightly bowed over him. 

"Are you ready?" he asked, catching Harry's eyes. 

Harry nodded. He didn't dare speak, afraid of what his voice would give away. 

Merlin slowly reached out, clearly careful not to startle Harry with sudden movements, and then he pressed his palm to the centre of his chest. 

"I will pull it out of you now," Merlin told him. "It might be painful. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded once more. He could take the pain as long as he would be alone in his body after. 

Merlin's eyes grew golden and then there was a tugging sensation inside of him, merely uncomfortable at first. It started to hurt shortly after, the pain turning agonising soon, making Harry gasp and fold in on himself, but Merlin did not stop. He could hear voices, but they were a blur compared to the reality of the pain that seemed to still, impossibly, grow and grow stronger. And then, the piece of Voldemort's soul seemed to tear out of him and Harry cried out because it felt like he was burning, flames were consuming him and he was dying and -

Then, there was warmth. Something was flowing into him, spreading like the gentle flow of a healing stream, and Harry realised that it must be Merlin's magic. He took a gasping breath and opened his eyes. 

Merlin was looking at him in concern, and he smiled gently when their eyes met. 

"It's done," he told him. "How are you feeling?"

Harry blinked, considering. "Lighter," he whispered. "Like a weight I didn't know was pressing down on my chest is gone."

"Good," Merlin nodded, straightening up. "That's good. We did it right, then."

As soon as he stepped away the slightest bit, Hermione had flung her arms around him, sobbing into his hair. 

"Oh, Harry," she whimpered. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Harry gulped and let himself be hugged. He dared shooting a tentatively glance around the room over Hermione's bushy head: Ron was sitting down, apparently having stood and again collapsed into his chair in relief once it was clear that things had gone well. He was pale but he sent Harry a relieved smile. Arthur and Draco were on their feet, Arthur's arms around Draco's shoulders, whether to hold Draco back or to comfort him, Harry didn't know. Maybe it had started out as one and continued as the other. Draco's eyes were red-rimmed and glued to Harry, but he made no move to approach him. 

When Hermione finally released him, Harry's eyes fell onto the box on the table. When he concentrated, Harry could feel the dark magic emanating from it - making him shiver in its eerie familiarity. 

"So," Harry asked, clearing his throat. "That's it?"

"Yes," Merlin nodded. Then, after a beat: "I think you should be the one to destroy it."

Harry jerked, looking at him with wide eyes. "Me?" he asked, with a feeling of dread. 

"It was a part of you, Harry," Merlin pointed out, very gently. "It's only right."

Harry gulped, turning to stare at the box again, wondering if he could do this. The Horcruxes they had destroyed up until now had already managed to put up an immense resistance without being part of the person who tried to destroy them for almost seventeen years. This Horcrux would know each and every one of Harry's weaknesses and it would exploit them mercilessly. 

"Harry," Arthur said, making him look up. "You can do this. You're a brave and strong young man and I know you can rise up to any task that is given to you. I recognise that spirit from someone else."

"Who?" Harry frowned. 

"Me," Arthur grinned. "Now, go ahead and smash that thing. It's tormented you long enough."

Despite himself, Harry had to smile at Arthur's words. He took a deep breath and stood. Merlin was ready to hand him Excalibur with an encouraging smile. Harry stared at it for a moment, turning it in his hands before asking, his voice quiet: "Draco?"

Draco perked up, meeting his gaze questioningly. 

"Can you come over here?" Harry asked, willing his voice to stay steady. "Just in case whatever comes out of this box… draws me in… I trust you most to bring me back to reality quickly."

"Me?" Draco asked softly, but he was already moving from Arthur's side, approaching Harry. "Why me?"

Harry quirked a small smile at that. "You've always known which buttons to push," Harry shrugged. "You're not afraid to tell me when I'm being ridiculous."

Draco snorted but he nodded, reaching out for his shoulder and squeezing it in reassurance. "All right," he agreed, strategically placing himself behind Harry. "I've got your back."

Harry nodded, his fingers tightening on the grip of Excalibur as his eyes fell onto the box on the table again. Then, he steeled himself and opened his mouth to lure the Horcrux out with Parseltongue - only to have plain English words fall from his lips. Harry froze, blinking. 

"Um," Ron muttered. "Either I've been listening to you for so long that I now understand it, too, or -"

"I can't speak it anymore," Harry muttered, looking at Merlin for help. "It was a part of  _ him _ , not of me."

Merlin sighed before shrugging. "No worries," he said. "There are other ways to open that box." And then, his eyes grew molten and a moment later, the lid jumped open and something emerged from it.

Harry blinked as he looked at… himself. 

Harry stared and stared as the mirror image of him smirked, no warmth in his smile as he said:  _ "How does it feel? To have torn the most powerful part from yourself, and be left with the scraps." _

Harry could feel Draco's hand on his shoulder again. "Don't listen to it, Harry," he muttered. "It's taunting you."

_ "Oh, but you know it's true,"  _ Horcrux-Harry remarked, his voice sharp.  _ "It was  _ me  _ who made you special, who helped you survive all these years. Now, you're just plain, ordinary Harry. How are you supposed to win against Lord Voldemort?" _

"Right," Draco snorted. "Because you've ever been so plain and normal, to begin with, and now you have a seed of Merlin's own magic inside of you to top it off. Honestly, Potter?!"

The real Harry's lips couldn't help but twitch at that. He looked back at his Horcrux doppelganger with raised eyebrows, only to see the other glower back at him.

_ "You know you're going to lose,"  _ it snapped. _"You're going to fail everyone you love and they're going to suffer for it. Draco, Ron, Hermione -"_  

"Enough!" Harry cut through the tirade and he lifted Excalibur to swing it at this feeble copy of himself. The sword sliced clean through it, and eerily green eyes locked onto his before the image dissolved, leaving an echo of snake-like whispers that Harry couldn't understand. 

The box on the table fell shut, the surface of the lid visibly cracked. 

Harry took a shaky breath and started when Draco slung his arms around his waist, aligning his chest with Harry's back and pressing a kiss to his temple. Then, he relaxed into the embrace, trying to breathe evenly. 

"There," Draco whispered. "It's over."

"It is," Merlin nodded. "Well done, Harry." He picked up the box to examine it. 

Harry caught Hermione and Ron's eyes. They were sitting huddled together, Hermione still looking tearful, but they smiled at Harry. Ron gave him a thumbs-up with the hand that Hermione wasn't clinging to. 

"So," Draco said conversationally, returning Harry's attention to him. "Do we need to talk about your fear of failure?" Harry was silent for a moment before he shrugged, a little self-consciously. Draco sighed. "Don't be stupid, Harry," he muttered, the soft tone of his voice belying the harshness of his words. "You're already the most powerful wizard our age I have ever met - granted, not always the smartest, but you're not working alone, and therefore, you don't have to succeed alone. And even if some of your strength came from the Horcrux inside of you, you just received an infusion of pure magic from the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Magic Incarnate. The Dark Lord won't know what hit him, Harry. So let's just focus on finding the last Horcrux so you can finish him off already."

Harry smiled slightly and turned his head enough so he could press his lips to Draco's for a soft kiss. 

"Merlin?" Harry heard Hermione ask. "Will your magic influence Harry's in any way?"

"I daresay it will," Merlin nodded, and Harry stopped kissing Draco to look at him curiously. "Spells he casts might be stronger than he's used to, and he might be able to wield new forms of magic… To be exact, he might be able to cast wandlessly more easily, the way I do. We'd have to try it out and practice."

"That's wicked!" Ron exclaimed, grinning at Harry. "Imagine You-know-Who's face if you start cursing him wandlessly, Harry!"

"It would definitely be useful, especially in case Harry loses his wand," Draco agreed, smiling. He caught Merlin's eyes. "You can teach him?"

"Sure," Merlin grinned. "It's going to be fun!"

And with Merlin's mischievous smirk and this new lightness in his chest, Harry almost dared to feel optimistic about the outcome of the war.


End file.
